


Action, Réaction

by ShinyMilotics



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Affairs, Alcohol, Ballroom Dancing, Camillotte, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Relevation, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyMilotics/pseuds/ShinyMilotics
Summary: a spur-of-the-moment decision sparks an impassioned, if emotionally confusing, affair between Charlotte and Princess Camilla.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here is the promised camillotte. i took forever to put it out because i kept changing my mind as to how i'd go about it. i hope it lives up to expectations!

Camilla had never been fond of these parties - or any sort of overly extravagant gathering. 

The Nohrian royal family was known for holding the most lavish celebrations. They spared no expense, always bringing the best decorators, chefs, musicians -- anything to please their esteemed guests. It was to be expected, then, that someone who harbored such a deep-running bitterness for Nohrian court life would sooner shut herself in her room all night, than have to doll herself up and fake smile for strangers who saw her as little more than a piece of meat in a dress.

Only this occasion wasn't like the others she'd endured countless times in the past. This one wasn’t held by her father, and the guests were not his. This time, it was the celebratory ball for King Xander’s coronation. It was meant to commemorate the ushering of a new era, one of peace. Among those invited were not only wealthy nobles, but peoples of all social standings, coming from a variety of kingdoms - even Hoshido. Indeed, the Hoshidan royal siblings, as well as all former members of Corrin’s army not only gave their presence, but were special guests of honor.

This time, Camilla decided, she could shake off her innate dislike for this sort of thing, and put on a genuine smile. She would do it for her brother, the newly crowned king; and for all others there, who would surely look to her for a chance to see the new face of Nohrian royalty.

She’d taken the opportunity to wear a gown given to her by her father as his last birthday gift to her. It was, in her eyes, a way to both to honor and thank him, and to bid farewell. For all his numerous short-comings, Garon had at least developed a fine eye for couture. The gown was violet, floor-length, woven from the finest cloth. Its body-hugging fit and V-neck cut perfectly accentuated Camilla’s luscious figure. Along with it, she was also adorned by her signature black tiara, dark red lipstick, and fine jewelry. There were several beautiful women attending, dressed in all varieties of elegant ensembles, but few could hope to not be put to shame by Camilla’s splendor. Then again, the same could be said of almost all balls she attended.

The event certainly had an atmosphere to it that was a whole lot different from what she’d been used to. The incredibly spacious room was filled with people smiling and chattering as they sipped on their wine. That was, of course, if they were not part of the crowd of dancers in the very center, who swished and spun their bodies to the music. Ah - the music, that was another novelty. This time, the musicians played tunes originating from all sorts of different lands. The variety was pleasant and refreshing. Camilla smiled at that thought as she leisurely paced through the crowd, observing the scene between sips of wine.

A warm happiness filled her as she realized just how much the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves. The space was filled was filled with laughs and smiles, as opposed to sneer glares. Every once in a while, she’d catch a glance of Elise and Sakura at a different part of the room. Elise would be frantically leading Sakura around, no doubt to show her all of the secret passages. Or perhaps just to play spies. In any case, the poor Hoshidan princess seemed to be having a hard time keeping up. Her darling Elise was a handful.

Camilla nods at Corrin when she spots the latter catching her eye from a distance. Dressed all in silver, her darling sister looks perfectly stunning. She is still with Azura, it seems. They’d been spending the majority of the evening alongside each other. Camilla imagines it may have been due to Azura feeling uneasy in such a large crowd. Or perhaps they just enjoyed each other’s company that much. Azura did seem to have a positive effect on her Corrin. If anyone was suitable enough to be at her side at a ball, it was Azura.

Camilla briefly chuckles to herself. It seemed that even having led an army to victory in war, and essentially saving the fate of the world, still wasn’t enough to cure Camilla of her need to coddle and protect her baby sister, even if she was not so much of a baby anymore.

Then, Camilla’s expression turns sour when she spots something unsightly for what was not the first time that evening. A certain blonde-haired woman, dressed in an off-the-shoulder white gown that exhibits her curves a bit too well, appears to be shamelessly flirting with a gentleman that Camilla is able to identify as a high-ranking Nohrian noble. Of course it would be Charlotte. The former border guard who fought alongside Corrin during the war, who was known for her fearsome strength, as well as for her habits of wearing revealing clothing and putting on an act of being a demure damsel in distress before every man who spoke to her.

Camilla grips her glass of wine with excessive force. There’s something about that sight - the beautiful woman giggling and getting far too close to the nobleman - that simply does not sit well with Camilla. This woman may have been a mere border guard in the past, but now she was a member of Corrin’s army. A guest of honor, someone who should be exemplifying the new values of the royal families. Having grown up in the Nohrian courts, she was able to imagine the gossip far too easily.

_Did you hear? That there’s a ditzy, gold-digging coquette among the ranks of the royal forces? So that’s the sort of character they’re having among their midst now? And here I thought the good new king was above such things. Guess now having a pretty face and perky breasts is all it takes to climb the ranks!_

Camilla shakes her head, inhaling deeply, trying to control herself. No, she would not stand for this. She had to go and bring the little scamp under control before she sullied the newly-earned good name of the Nohrian royalty.

She makes her way through the crowd in Charlotte’s direction, the sound of her heels clacking against the marble floor reverberating through the space. Once she’s close enough, she can already hear the absurdities being uttered from Charlotte’s mouth - in her _demoiselle_ voice, of course.

“Oh, but of _course!_ You cannot _imagine_ the horrors I put myself through in order to protect the young princess! But I had to…I would sooner throw my life away than put hers in danger! You see, I…I just feel such a strong urge to protect those I care about, even if-“

“Pardon me,” Camilla’s stern voice suddenly interrupts the pathetic excuse for a speech. Charlotte turns with a yelp, very nearly spilling her wine all over Camilla.

“O-oh, well hello Princess Camilla!” She stammers, lowering her head into a bow. “To what to we owe this great pleasure, milady?”

Camilla doesn't respond, holding her position and glaring both at Charlotte and the nobleman as if they’ve committed some sort of crime. The man coughs awkwardly, his nervousness showing.

“Ahem, I beg your forgiveness, Princess Camilla. My name is-“

“I know who you are,” Camilla interrupts. She pays no mind to him as she turns her gaze back to Charlotte, who appears to be struggling to maintain her façade.

“The next dance is about to start. Will you accompany me, Charlotte?”

Charlotte feels as though her heart is going to leap right out of her chest. She bows again. “But of _course_ , my lady! It would be my greatest honor!” 

“Come with me,” is all Camilla says before abruptly taking Charlotte by the wrist, her grip on it strong enough to bruise, and pulling her from the scene.

Neither women speak a word as Camilla pulls Charlotte across the room. Charlotte occasionally groans her displeasure from being dragged around by the wrist like a child, but she dares not voice it before the princess. Camilla finally releases her when they reach the dance floor, and both women take their positions as the musicians prepare to begin playing the next dance. They bow to each other before the music starts.

The tune that plays is an elegant, smooth, guitar-based melody. Nestrian, Camilla deduces. She is relieved that she knows the dance. Charlotte seems to as well, displaying knowing movements as they take their first steps. When their hands come together, Charlotte finally begins to voice her many questions. “S-so, I ask again, Princess Camilla…To what do I owe this honor?”

When it’s Camilla’s turn to take Charlotte’s hand and pull it towards herself, Camilla applies an unnecessary amount of pressure, eliciting a second yelp from Charlotte. “You can drop the act now, darling. No need to maintain your little charade around me,” she assures, a devious smile on her lips.

But Charlotte’s voice keeps up its tone as she twirls around Camilla. “Whatever do you _mean_ , milady? I'm just acting as I usually do!” she chirps, her sing-song voice striking a nerve within her dance partner. Another harsh pull on her hand tells her that testing Camilla’s patience was not the best idea.

“Very well,” Camilla begins, her voice low, yet dangerous. “In that case,” she brings Charlotte close so that she can whisper in her ear, “I _order_ you to drop your ridiculous act, if you do not want me to have you thrown out of here right this second, in front of all these people”.

Charlotte’s blood goes cold, feeling Camilla’s threat in every part of her body. “Ugh, _fine!”_ she yields. “What do you want.”

Camilla smiles in satisfaction. “That’s much better.” They continue their dance for a few moments before she begins giving an explanation. At that moment, Camilla notes, at least Charlotte is a rather good dancer. But of course she would be.

“Now,” Camilla begins, both her and Charlotte’s movements elegant and precise as they dance, stealing a good many pair of eyes among the audience in the process. “I would like to remind you,” she pauses as Charlotte turns to face away from her, swinging her hips sensually against Camilla’s. “That you are an honorary member of my sister’s army now. Your actions reflect not only upon yourself, but upon her, and all of Nohrian royalty too,” she explains, her tone still low, calculated.

Charlotte remains silent, the only sounds escaping from her being her heavy breaths as she grows more exhilarated from the perilous dance. Camilla stretches both of their arms out in front of her, and Charlotte twirls in. Once she’s close, Camilla says in her ear, “which means, darling,” they pull away, then come together again as the music pauses for a moment. “That I cannot allow you to continue sullying her good name by going around acting like a brainless flirt before every male you come across.” Camilla abruptly turns Charlotte so that she faces her, looking straight into her eyes, smiling. “Got it, dear?”

When the music starts again, Charlotte brings her face up close to Camilla’s, then slowly moves her body down, gyrating her hips, while still holding Camilla’s gaze. “Tch. What if I don’t want to?” she says, defiant, once she comes back up. “You don’t know me. You don’t know why I do what I do.”

They go back to swaying and twirling motions, and Camilla laughs quietly. “If you don’t want to? Why, darling…” she yanks Charlotte towards her. “Then I’ll have to see that you are punished. Taught your place,” Camilla whispers, her breath hot on Charlotte’s ear. Charlotte bites her lip, her entire body suddenly feeling hot; and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the dancing, or of Camilla’s words.

As if on cue, the music stops. So caught up in the moment was she that Charlotte never noticed that she dance was about to end. The dancers clap cheerfully in recognition to the musicians. She too, claps lazily, as she notices Camilla standing opposite to her with a grin on her face. _Bitch_ , Charlotte thinks. _She enjoyed every moment of that._

As the next dance is about to begin, Camilla steps in Charlotte’s direction, grabbing her wrist again. “Come,” she says in her ear, before pulling her towards the side walls of the room. They break into a brisk walk, dodging the crowd and drawing significant attention as they make their way through. Camilla stops once she spots a waiter.

“Finish your wine,” she orders. Charlotte obeys without a word, bringing her glass to her lips and chugging the rest of its contents. Camilla does the same, then takes both of their glasses and places them on the waiter’s empty tray without a word, nodding to him. She then takes Charlotte’s hand (at least not her wrist, that time) and leads her to a small set of doors near the corner of the room, closing them behind her once outside.

The hallway is dark, with only a few candles illuminating it, since plenty of light comes from the ballroom. Before Charlotte can question the situation, Camilla pins her to the wall by the wrists with a roughness that she deems absolutely unfitting of a lady. She yelps, her heart accelerating. Camilla’s eyes scan her body from head to toe.

“Why, look at you…” she begins, her voice like a viper that quietly slithers its way towards an unsuspecting victim. “This is the first thing that’s got to go. Your skimpy outfits.” Her hands move from Charlotte’s wrists to grab her plump breasts, squeezing them with significant force “Do you think it’s appropriate? To be showing these off to every man you see?” 

Charlotte scowls, letting out a _tsk_ of defiance, struggling to maintain control. “Like you’re one to talk. You show off your body all the time,” she accuses. Camilla chuckles.

“My, are you really attempting to place you and I at equal standing? What a foolish girl you are.” She squeezes Charlotte’s breasts again, hard, her nails digging into the soft flesh. Charlotte draws in a sharp breath, biting her lip.

Camilla’s right hand then releases the mound, instead smoothing over the space between Charlotte’s breast and collarbone with her palm. “Hmm, what lovely soft skin you have…I can see why you’d use it as a means to get what you want. But,” she suddenly grabs Charlotte’s throat, earning a squeal of what can either be fear, or arousal, or both. “It stops now.”

With that, Camilla yanks Charlotte towards her using the grip at her throat, and captures her lips hard with her own.

Charlotte loses all concept of time and place. Camilla’s kiss is hungry, demanding, and she melts into it, submitting her mouth to Camilla and wrapping her arms around her lilac hair. The wine she’d been having only serves to intensify the intoxicating effect of Camilla’s touches.

Camilla kisses her deep and rough, one hand securing Charlotte’s wrists above her head, while the other squeezes and kneads at a breast. And Charlotte lets her, like a prisoner that’s accepted her fate.

Just as abruptly as she’d initiated it, Camilla breaks the kiss, releasing Charlotte’s lips with a sloppy, wet sound. “Tell me then, dearest Charlotte…” she whispers. “Do you still intend to continue with your behavior?” The question comes with a dangerous tone, and Camilla’s piercing gaze that captures Charlotte’s adds to her air of possession. Charlotte stammers to respond.

“I…I- _hah-!”_

Camilla cuts Charlotte short by capturing the skin of her neck between her lips, her teeth sinking down, hard. She sucks on the skin there, knowing full well that it’s bound to leave a mark. _Hmm_. A mark like that ought to look pretty on Charlotte’s pale skin, she thinks.

When Camilla finally releases Charlotte’s neck from her mouth’s grip, she moves back up to her ear, whispering in it as the tip of her finger traces languid circles on the exposed bit of Charlotte’s breast. “Well? I believe I asked a question, dear. And I’m not a very patient woman. Will you choose to obey? Or do you still defy me?”

Every word Camilla says, along with her hot breath so close to her ear and neck, leaves Charlotte trying her damn hardest to not lose control and slip a hand into her panties right then and there. “I….I do what I want,” she utters, steadfast. But she learns the consequence of her defiance all too soon when Camilla’s palm suddenly strikes her straight across the cheek. Charlotte half yelps, half moans as a stinging sensation takes over her cheek. That same hand that Camilla just used to slap her lunges for her throat again.

“Oh? Was that a little moan I just heard?” She digs her nails into Charlotte’s skin, and Charlotte bites her lip, on the verge of breaking apart. “You’re quite the little masochist, aren’t you?” Camilla kisses her again, before running her lips back up to Charlotte’s ear.

“I wonder if Corrin knew…When she recruited you…She’d just permitted a filthy little _slut_ to walk among her own”, she hisses, her voice seductive as ever. Then she nibbles on Charlotte’s earlobe, and the woman moans loud, no longer able to hold back.

Camilla chuckles in satisfaction. “Shh, quiet, dear…You don’t want all those people on the other side of the wall to hear, now do you?” she whispers. She traces a long line along the shell of Charlotte’s ear with her tongue. Charlotte bites her lip hard.

“Hmm, I can only imagine what sorts of things could be going through that filthy head of yours…” she muses, her hand having hiked up the skirt of Charlotte’s dress, and is now traveling up and down Charlotte’s thigh.

“You’re probably thinking of how much you want to bare this pretty body of yours before me…To let me see all of it, touch it…” Another nibble at Charlotte’s ear lobe. “Am I warm, darling?”

Charlotte shakes her head, refusing to answer, knowing full well that she’s enough of a mess already.

“Oh? Not going to tell me? Are you sure?” Camilla’s other hand grabs the white off-the-shoulder sleeve of Charlotte’s dress, pulling it down to expose one of her breasts.

“Don’t you want to tell me how much you want to feel my mouth on these tits…how much you want me to suck on your pretty nipples?” Her voice is but a sultry murmur as her hand massages the now bare breast.

“Mmh…” Charlotte lets out in a hushed, breathy moan. Camilla chuckles, allowing her hand to move further up Charlotte’s thigh.

“Because I think, that the mind of a wanton girl like you is filled with fantasies like that…Even now, you’re probably hoping I’ll just stop teasing and _fuck_ you already, aren’t you?” As she says that, Camilla’s free hand takes a nipple between its fingers, and squeezes, hard.

“Princess…Camilla… _ah_ , fuck, you’re-“ Charlotte stammers, her voice broken. Camilla’s lips capture hers again, bringing her into another deep, impassioned kiss; which she then breaks all too soon. This, Charlotte notices, seems to be a pattern with Camilla.

“Oh, but it’s a real shame that you insist on being such a disobedient little wench…Because if you were a good girl,” Camilla kisses her neck, “I could reward you, you know. And I don’t half-ass anything I do, darling. I could make you feel things you never even knew you could feel.”

Charlotte squirms, overwhelmed by the need to ease the throbbing ache that’s built up inside of her. Camilla’s words are making a mess of her all on their own.

“Yet still…you refuse. You’d rather have your silly little games. _Wouldn’t you_.” With that, Camilla grabs Charlotte by the throat and slams her against the wall, earning from the woman a gasp of pain and surprise. Camilla is smirking, her eyes dark and her mind absolutely high from the thrill. Punishing Charlotte is a power trip, and she's riding it like she was born for it. 

Charlotte slumps back against the wall, breathing hard, her heart beating absurdly fast. When she re-opens her eyes, she finds that Camilla is staring at her like a huntress that’s cornered her prey. And that’s what she is now. Camilla’s prey. And yet, she doesn't think she's ever been so turned on in her life.

“No,” she finally manages to say, barely being able to form the syllable through her ragged breathing.

Camilla tilts her head quizzically. “No?”

“I want you, Camilla. I-I’ll stop flirting. I’ll do anything it takes. Just-“ she stops, catching her breath.

Camilla leans in, taking her chin with her fingers with uncharacteristic gentleness, and places an equally gentle kiss on Charlotte’s lips. “Yes, darling? I’m listening.”

“Just _fuck_ me, Camilla. _Please_. I’ll do anything you want,” Charlotte pleads, not caring anymore how she must sound having been reduced to begging.

Camilla sighs deeply in satisfaction, her thumb running gently over Charlotte’s bottom lip. “That’s better…Good girl. Now I can give you your reward,” she says, placing a kiss to Charlotte’s cheek. Then she leans in to whisper in her ear, “But be quiet, sweet thing. You don’t want the others to hear you.”

Charlotte nods in silence, leaning her head back against the wall, so very ready to give herself to Camilla and her ministrations. Camilla, on her part, sinks down to her knees, and pulls up the skirt of Charlotte’s dress. She is thankful for it being so form-fitting. The lack of excess fabric is certainly helpful.

Without a word, she runs two fingers down the outside of the flimsy, wet piece of cloth that has become Charlotte’s panties. Charlotte draws in a sharp breath, and Camilla grins, looking up at her.

“My…You’re all soaking wet, just from some fondling and me whispering a few dirty words to you. You filthy little slut.” 

Then, she pulls Charlotte’s panties aside, and shoves her face onto her waiting, dripping cunt. Charlotte immediately places a hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle her whimper. She shuts her eyes tight as Camilla’s tongue runs all over her folds, over her clit. Her mind clouded by the wine, Charlotte feels as though she could die right then and there, and be satisfied.

Soon she finds that Camilla’s mouth is talented at more than just being quick-witted. Her tongue swirls around her cunt, exactly where it needs to in order to create the most mind-blowing pleasure. She breathes hard into her hand, not knowing how much longer she’s going to be able to keep herself even somewhat silent. The fact that only a wall separates them from an entire crowd of people somehow adds to the fire lit within her.

Camilla pulls her mouth away, replacing her tongue with two of her fingers instead, rubbing precise circles on Charlotte’s clit. “You’re so wet, darling…You’re not scared of getting caught? Are you going to come right here and now, when anyone could walk in any second and see you?”

Before Charlotte can even begin formulating a response, those two plunge inside her cunt. Camilla lets out a moan of her own.

“ _Fuck,”_ Charlotte utters.

“Gods, you’re so tight. It makes me want to fuck you even harder,” Camilla says, her eyes focused on the sight before her. Charlotte gasps, her hips instinctively moving into Camilla’s fingers, seeking more. More contact. More pleasure.

“Damn it Camilla, fuck me,” Charlotte pleads, as quietly as she can manage. “I c-can’t take it anymore.”

Camilla grins, lowering her head back onto Charlotte’s clit. Her tongue works at it with short, precise movements while she pumps her fingers in and out, curling them as they make their way in to make sure they reach exactly where they need to. Charlotte bites her finger hard, her hips riding Camilla’s fingers almost of their own accord.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck,”_ Charlotte whispers in between thrusts of Camilla’s fingers, feeling herself get closer and closer to her limit. The combined sensations of being fucked and eaten out, along with the knowledge that they could be caught at any time…all of it drives Charlotte mad. It’s unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

Camilla’s fingers pick up their pace once she feels Charlotte’s walls start to constrict around them. She lifts her face from Charlotte’s clit to look up at her.

“Hmm? Do you like that, darling? Are you going to come for me?” she coaxes, her fingers frantically fucking Charlotte’s cunt.

“Gods, _yes,_ Camilla, I’m so fucking close, don’t stop,” Charlotte pleads, her eyes shut tight and her entire body beginning to be taken over by shivers. Camilla leans down and goes back to eating her out, and her fingers fuck her hard, every thrust touching _that_ sweet spot that she’s learned is where Charlotte likes it. And it’s hot, it’s all so fucking hot, and Charlotte can’t take it any longer.

“Camilla, Camilla, oh fuck oh fuck oh _FUCK--_ ” 

Charlotte comes hard against Camilla’s fingers and mouth, her body becoming paralyzed and limp, shaking all over, and very nearly collapsing on top of Camilla. In the high of her climax, she didn’t even notice that she’d screamed the princess’ name.

Camilla rises slowly, wiping Charlotte’s juices from her chin. And just as she’s about to put her fingers into Charlotte’s mouth and have her suck them clean, the door that they’d come through suddenly bursts open.

Camilla quickly steps in front of Charlotte, covering her long enough to allow her to straighten her dress, and hides the hand that's dirty with sex behind her back. The person that comes through the door is Niles.

“Hello, Niles,” Camilla greets, her voice perfectly composed, as if she hadn’t just spent the last couple of minutes fucking Charlotte senseless. “Is everything alright?”

“Pardon me, Princess Camilla,” says the thief, his one eye scanning the dark hallway. “You’d been gone from the ballroom for a while, and somebody reported hearing a scream from the other side of the wall, so I came to check on you. I see you’ve got company,” he notes matter-of-factly.

Camilla chuckles. “Ah, yes. I was feeling a little unwell, so I stepped outside for a bit. Charlotte here was a darling and offered to accompany me,” she explains, smiling in Charlotte’s direction.

Niles grins, one of his hands coming to his chin. “I see. Shall I request a healer, then?” Camilla shakes her head. “No need. I’m quite alright now. Charlotte and I will be going back in just a moment. Thank you for your concern, Niles.”

Niles bows his head slightly before going back to the ballroom. Camilla turns to find a still heavily breathing Charlotte slumping against the wall. Her face is flushed red, and her blonde hair is an absolute mess. _Delectable._

"Do you think he…” Charlotte begins to ask.

“Oh, Niles? He definitely knows. But that’s alright. He can be trusted,” Camilla assures. She steps in Charlotte’s direction again, taking her chin in her fingers as she had earlier.

“Now let’s hope that the same can be said for you, my pretty pet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hardy har har

Being someone who spent so much of her time fabricating and getting lost in fantasies, it wasn’t a surprise that Charlotte also was quite the fan of romance novels. Because she didn’t have much access to books growing up, Charlotte now had a consistent habit of becoming fully engrossed in the novels she did read. She liked to spend the end of her nights alone, curled up with a book, where she could shut out everything else and just submit her mind to the ventures of fictional characters.

This time, she sat on a couch in one of the common rooms made available to her as a servant of the Nohrian royal family. The novel was about a warrior princess who had fallen in love with a boy living in one of the territories her tribe was at war with; inevitably resulting in a scandalous forbidden romance. All fairly standard.

However, there was something entirely non-standard about this night. Usually, she was able to place all outside thoughts in the back of her mind in order to focus on the story without any difficulty. All she had to do was open up the pages, and everything else was gone. Yet this time, she simply could not shake off her memory of her encounter with Princess Camilla at King Xander’s coronation ball. It remained steadfast in her conscious mind, not allowing her to dismiss it.

Gently, Charlotte touched her lips with two of her fingers as she read. Her eyes were scanning the words, but their meaning was not being registered, for her mind was too occupied recalling how easily she’d come undone at Camilla’s touch then. And they hadn’t spoken since, leaving her only with speculation about just what that… _occurrence_ , would entail. Did Camilla mean it when she’d made her promise that she’d stop her flirtatious behavior? Would she actually hold her to it? What exactly did that mean?

A sigh escaped Charlotte’s lips. Evidently, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her novel tonight. She cleared her throat, then got up from the couch, stretched, and made her way out of the now empty common room.

The hallway was eerily quiet as she made her way to her private quarters. She was still not used to this. Her mind was always subconsciously asking where all the people patrolling were. She smiled briefly at that thought. _Of course there isn’t anyone patrolling. Because I’m in a_ castle _now!_

Then, as if on a cue, a voice interrupted her moment of glee.

“Yo.”

Charlotte jumped, nearly dropping her book as she turned around to face the voice. She recognized it, but wasn’t sure who it belonged to until Selena’s face was revealed by the faint candlelight.

“Sheesh, what’s your problem? You’re looking at me like I’m a ghost.”

“Well you _scared_ me,” Charlotte spat, recollecting herself. “Why are you coming after me in the middle of the night for, anyway? What are you, some kind of stalker?” 

It wasn’t until she noticed Selena’s wide-eyed expression of surprise that Charlotte realized it. She’d just broken character in front of someone who didn’t know her true nature (until now).

“Huh. What’s _that_ all about? You’re a little damsel in distress during the day, but a rough-edged brute in the night?”

Charlotte’s scowl intensified. “Whatever. It’s none of your business, anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my room.” Before she could turn her back, however, Selena stopped her.

“Hold on a sec! Obviously I came to find you for a reason! _Gawds_ , some people can be so clueless.” She sighed, as if taking a moment to calm. “Lady Camilla said she wants to see you.”

Charlotte’s pulse suddenly quickened, her stomach sinking. “Wha. Right now?”

Selena rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her. “Well I don’t _know_. She didn’t specify. She just told me to find you on my way to my room and tell you that she wants to see you. You can interpret that however you want,” she explained. Then, with a sound of _tsk_ but not another word, she turned and made her way down the hall.

Charlotte stood frozen in her spot for a moment, wondering why Princess Camilla would send her retainer at this hour to deliver such a message. It must have been close to midnight; surely whatever she wanted could wait until morning.

Yet, she didn’t want to wait until morning. Something told her that whatever it was that Princess Camilla wanted to see her for, it didn’t just entail conversation over tea. And that prospect alone would, no doubt, be enough to deprive her of sleep that night. So, the drew in a breath before starting to make the long walk towards the wing where the royals’ bedchambers were located.

 

* * *

 

The second the doors open, Charlotte feels her heart get caught in her throat. Camilla stands behind them, dressed in nothing but a silk-woven, lilac-colored night gown that goes down to her mid-thigh. She isn’t wearing make up, and the black tiara that usually adorns her head is nowhere to be seen. There’s something awfully intimate, utterly intimidating, and ridiculously sensual about seeing her in such a state. And Charlotte is at a loss for words.

Camilla giggles at the lack of a greeting and Charlotte’s expression. “What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?”

Charlotte blinks hard before shaking her head. “Your um. Your retainer talked to me. She said you-“

“I wanted to see you, yes,” Camilla finishes in her stead. “Come on in,” she invites, stepping aside so that Charlotte may walk in.

“Are you sure? If you’ve already retired for the night, I can come back tomorrow,” Charlotte blurts out, the words leaving her mouth uncharacteristically fast. Camilla chuckles. 

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, dear. After all, we’re both girls, right? There’s nothing I need to hide.” The playful tone in her voice adds to the obvious irony of the statement. Charlotte swallows hard, as if gathering her courage, before walking into the oversized room. Camilla shuts and locks the doors behind them.

Charlotte takes a moment to appreciate the lavishness of the room. It’s not only massive for a single person, but also filled with only the finest furnishing. Almost everything is colored in either black or purple - so very fitting of Princess Camilla, she thinks.

“What are you looking at, hmm?” Camilla asks from behind her. Charlotte turns to find her sitting on the edge of her queen-sized bed, one leg crossed over the other. She doesn’t move from her position.

“I was just admiring the room here. It’s very…expensive,” she concludes, unable to find a better word. Camilla smiles in her direction.

“Yes, I suppose having an expensive bedroom is a little perk of being royalty,” she states the obvious. “But I didn’t ask you to come here so we could discuss that.” With that remark, her tone suddenly changes, as does her expression. It’s now significantly more serious. Charlotte looks straight at her, still standing near the entrance of the room.

“Are you going to come closer, or shall I get up and carry you over here?”

For the second time that night, Charlotte’s stomach sinks. She wonders if that too, will be a common trend with Princess Camilla. Nevertheless, she complies to the request. Once she’s close enough, Camilla pats the surface of the bed beside her. “Sit, darling. No need to be shy. It’s only me.”

“That doesn’t exactly help, Princess Camilla,” Charlotte says, placing emphasis on the title. Camilla offers her a smile before carefully reaching for her face, taking a strand of her blonde hair in her fingers and placing it behind her ear. “You’ll soon find that I’m the kind of person that prefers when others are comfortable in her presence. That includes you, Charlotte dear.”

Ironically, Charlotte only tenses more, despite Camilla’s touch being gentle. She just cannot seem to wrap her mind around someone that is royalty inviting her into their room in the middle of the night, then asking her to get comfortable. Noticing that her attempt to get Charlotte to relax a bit more isn’t giving results, Camilla sighs, drawing her hand away.

“Well. I suppose I’ll get to the point, then. I called you here so that I may apologize.” Charlotte tilts her head, dumbfounded. “Apologize?” Camilla nods.

“For my behavior at my brother’s coronation ball the other night. I seemed to have gotten carried away in my…disciplining of you,” she says, seeming to pay extra attention to her word choice. “One might say that my being a royal allows me to take such liberties, but after some thinking, I’ve decided that it wasn’t appropriate behavior. So, I am sorry, darling.” 

Charlotte’s eyes remain wide, and she remains hardly able to believe the words coming from Princess Camilla. If there was one thing she never thought she’d hear, it’d be a princess apologizing for her method of chastising. Yet, another part of her is elated because Princess Camilla just indirectly admitted that she, too, had spent time thinking about what happened.

“No need to apologize. You did make me come super hard,” Charlotte remarks, not hesitating in the least to use such language. Camilla chuckles in response, suddenly filled with a sense of pride.  “So I did. Still I felt that I needed to, even if you did end up enjoying yourself due to my little overreaction.”

Then, Camilla places one hand over Charlotte’s, and uses the other to cup Charlotte’s chin for what is the third time in the last few days. “But you can rest assured, dear…I won’t allow such a thing to happen again,” she murmurs.

“What if I want you to?” Charlotte poses, feeling gutsy. Camilla smirks, her gaze boring down on Charlotte like that of a predator. “What if you want me to what? Overstep some boundaries again?”

“Yeah.”

Camilla raises her thumb, using it to gently trace Charlotte’s bottom lip. “Well in that case, I’d have to stand by what I said when I called you a little slut.”

“Tch. I don’t think one needs to be a slut in order to want you, Princess Camilla,” Charlotte retorts, Camilla’s finger staying on her bottom lip as she speaks. And Camilla giggles.

“Ooh, calling me ‘Princess Camilla’ again. You're so cute,” she teases. “Come here. Sit on my lap.”

Charlotte obeys, shifting so that she is on Camilla’s lap, her knees at either side of her waist. Camilla slowly runs her hands up and down the length of Charlotte’s arm. “You know, I’m glad you came to see me so soon. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

Charlotte sighs contently, her eyes closing for a full moment. “Really? You had someone come find me in the middle of the night and tell me that you want to see me, and didn’t expect me to show up almost right away?” Camilla raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“Hmm. Seems like even after that little disciplining, you’re still a mean girl,” she accuses. “But that’s alright. I might just like a mean girl.”

She leans in then, taking Charlotte’s lips with her own. Her hands move to cup Charlotte’s cheeks, and she kisses her deep, but much more gently than she had that night. Charlotte moans softly into her mouth, wrapping her arms around Camilla’s neck, taking a fistful of the lilac hair in her hand.

Their kiss progresses quickly, with lips closing more tightly, tongues running over each other longer; and Charlotte, almost subconsciously, grinds into Camilla’s lap, desperate for some friction. Yet, just as she’s really starting to get heated up, Camilla stops her, pulling her lips away, and placing a hand over Charlotte’s chest.

“Let’s not get carried away, darling. I won’t be fucking you tonight.” Charlotte frowns like a child who’s just been told they can’t play with a toy. “Why not?”

“Because I’m saying so. But if you must know, I’ve already had my bath, and everything. I can’t have you making a mess of me at this hour.”

Charlotte withdraws her arms from around Camilla’s neck, still scowling in disbelief. “I can’t believe you! You get me all riled up like that, then tell me you won’t be fucking me?”

Camilla giggles again. “Sorry, darling.” She plants a quick kiss on Charlotte’s lips. “But if you’re that frustrated, you can always touch yourself once you get back to your room. You can think of what we _would_ have done if circumstances allowed,” she says, hoping her tone doesn’t give too much away. Because the scenario she just described is one nice mental picture.

Charlotte lets out a sound of _tch_ in defeat, standing up again. “You’re terrible, Princess Camilla.”

“So I’m told,” Camilla responds, stealing another kiss. “I’ll be going to bed now. But I look forward to speaking with you again, dear Charlotte.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes with a slight smile as she makes her way to exit the room.

 

* * *

 

Once she’s back in her room, Charlotte doesn’t waste a second in getting rid of her clothes and laying in bed. She doesn’t even bother putting on her nightgown. She won’t be needing it.

One of her hands reaches for her breast, while the other quickly makes its way between her thighs. _Ugh_ , she thinks. She’s embarrassingly wet. Damn Camilla for having that effect on her.

Her fingers get to work, tracing tiny, quick circles on her clit, while the other squeezes and kneads at her breast. She bites her lip, trying her hardest to keep quiet, as she knows that others are sleeping around her, and she can’t be certain about how thick or thin the walls around her are. 

Yet, staying quiet becomes increasingly difficult as her fingers begin to move faster on her clit, her other hand squeezing her breast harder. She grinds into her hand, making good use of the lubrication provided by her juices.

She imagines staying in Camilla’s room that night, pulling off that silk nightgown of hers, and having that incredible body all over her.

_Fuck,_  she whispers, her movements becoming more frantic.

She’d want to grind her body all over Camilla’s, to feel their breasts pressing against each other, to feel Camilla’s teeth sinking into her skin again. 

“ _Mmhm, yes….”_

In fact, she wants to take those breasts into her mouth, to suck on them hard, to hear what sounds Camilla would make.

But perhaps even more so, she wants to feel Camilla’s touch on her again. She wants to feel her fingers in her pussy, fucking her at just the right place.

“ _Oh, gods, Camilla…Camilla…”_

She wouldn’t be the one doing all of the receiving this time, though. She wanted to fuck Camilla at the same time, to taste her, to have the two of them moan in unison as they fucked each other.

Her other hand releases her breast to go in between her thighs, two of its fingers easily sinking into her pussy while the other continues to rub frantic circles on her clit.

“ _Yes, yes, just like that, fuck-“_

Charlotte fucks herself hard, fast, her mind completely engrossed in her fantasy of fucking and being fucked by Camilla. _Gods_ , she needs it, she needs to feel that touch again so fucking bad.

And then she feels it; with her fingers touching at just the right spots, she feels herself get close.

“ _Gods, Camilla, FUCK ME!”_

Her hips buck into her fingers as if in a frenzy, and she lets out a loud breathy moan, her fingers continuing to move at a frantic pace as she rides out her orgasm to the last brim.

Once the high is gone, her arms fall flat at her sides, exhausted. Turning on her side, she huddles up against the blankets, reveling in the relaxing haze of her after glow.

Just before she falls asleep, she makes a mental note to get back at Camilla for teasing her like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camilla is a tease and so am i ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adds angst to the filth because i just can't help myself ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Camilla is on her way back to her bedchamber after a long, tiresome morning, filled with a whole lot of special council meetings, and conversations with irksome high-ranking men. She cracks her neck a few times, the stress taking a strain on her body.

She really does despise such things. She honestly wishes she could leave it all to Xander, Leo and Corrin to handle, but she knows doing so wouldn’t make her a very considerate sister. But what she does is for them, and them only. She feels absolutely no personal obligation to matters of the crown.

As she is about to turn into the hallway connecting to the royal bedchambers’ wing, a familiar voice coming from the other side of the room steals her attention. She conceals herself behind one of the room’s large pillars, listening in to what is being said.

Upon closer look, she realizes that the voice had, in fact, been Charlotte’s. She is engaged in conversation with two extravagantly dressed women, whom Camilla recognizes as members of the court.

“The utter nerve of you,” spits one of the women. “Speaking to King Xander like that. Have you no sense of honor or duty?”

“That’s right,” jumps in the other one. “A filthy gold-digger like you has no business addressing our King as you did just then.”

Charlotte scowls, her eyes revealing a vicious glare. “Beg pardon?”

“You heard me. You think we don’t know who you are? Perhaps you should have thought of that before parading around the castle, flirting with noble men like a half-wit schoolgirl. Learn your place, girl. You are nothing but a foot soldier. You should be grateful that King Xander is generous enough to even let you remain here in the castle."

Charlotte clenches her fists at her sides, putting in significant effort to restrain yourself so that she doesn’t jump the women right then and there.

“As if the two of you can tell me what my place is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.” Charlotte attempts to swerve around them to continue on her way out, but the women stop her, standing between her and her way again.

“How dare you try to dismiss us that way! You little-“

“Pardon me, ladies.”

Camilla’s imposing, authoritarian voice stops all three in their tracks. She steps in their direction, her gaze filled with contained, yet clearly noticeable rage. Once she comes close enough, she stands beside Charlotte, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders.

“I hope you two aren’t badmouthing my dear Charlotte here,” she says, her voice not showing even the slightest hint of sarcasm. The women immediately bow their heads in respect.

“P-Princess Camilla! Oh no, nothing of the sort! We were merely offering her some friendly advice,” one of them explains, her improvisation skills seriously lacking. Camilla narrows her eyes.

“I think that should be left up to myself and my siblings.” She turns her head to look at Charlotte. “Why don’t you go on ahead, darling. I’ll just have another little word with the ladies here.”

Charlotte nods, wordlessly walking around them to make her way down the main hallway. Once Camilla presumes she is far enough, she turns her attention back to the two women in front of her. Pulling out a dagger from a hidden compartment in her leggings, she raises it to level with their throats.

“Now. Let this serve as your one and only warning. If I hear about you two, or anybody else in the court, having a negative word to say about Charlotte, I will have your heads.” As she says the words, her eyes reveal a violent fury that drains the blood from the court women’s faces. They’d heard about how vicious Princess Camilla could be, but being at the receiving end of her anger was far more terrifying than any stories they may have heard. After bowing and offering hasty apologies, they quickly scramble out of Camilla’s sight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once Camilla exits the castle doors and steps out to the gardens where the practice arenas are located, she finds Charlotte leaning against the wall to her right side, sharpening a small throwing axe with a tense expression on her face. Camilla sighs, making her way towards her.

Charlotte speaks before she can offer a greeting.

“Why’d you do that.”

Camilla raises one eyebrow, half in surprise, half in disbelief. _That’s a first_ , she thinks, having never been given such a reaction after defending someone.

“I felt it to be necessary,” she answers matter-of-factly. Charlotte _tsks_ with a scowl, applying too much force to the axe’s blade, very near cutting herself in the process.

“I don’t need to be protected,” Charlotte spits, her voice defiant.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t, darling. I’ve seen you wield that axe of yours with far more expertise than most of my brother’s army,” Camilla replies, stepping closer in her direction.

“But I cannot stand the women of the court. I will not allow them to say such things to you and get away with it.”

Charlotte is about to argue again, but is stopped in her tracks once she notices Camilla’s expression. It’s the first time that she sees a falter in her seemingly unbreakable image of a tough woman in control. She sees concern; real concern, and a slight hint of gloom hidden deep within.

With her continued silence, Camilla sighs. “Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable,” she offers, the danger in her voice having been replaced with a distinct tiredness. Charlotte shakes her head, lowering the axe and stone she has in hand.

“No. It’s not like that. I just -“ she pauses, trying to find the right words. “I know they’re right. I’ve heard it all before. To others, I’ve always just been a flirt. But I never cared about what anyone had to say. I thought I was just going about achieving my goals in a logical way. And - well. I’ve never really had anyone stand up for me before. I’ve always had to fend for myself. That’s why I learned to fight.”

Camilla’s eyes soften, Charlotte’s words tugging at her heartstrings. In Charlotte, she sees herself as a young girl. Constantly having to swallow what others say about you, trying to pay it no mind in other to make yourself stronger. Picking the axe to defend yourself if need be. Her motherly, altruistic instincts quickly hit, making her an overwhelming urge to guard Charlotte from such things.

“I’m sorry. I probably said too much, there,” Charlotte says with a smile, snapping Camilla out of her thoughts. “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

Camilla smiles back, shaking her head. “Please, darling. You may share with me as much you like. Your story just made me become lost in my thoughts.”

“Oh?”  
  
Camilla nods. “You remind me so much of myself. It’s uncanny.”

Charlotte lets out a brief laugh. “Don’t compare yourself to me, Princess Camilla. It’s doing yourself a great disservice.”

Dismissing the positively ridiculous statement, Camilla takes one of Charlotte’s hands in her own, carefully removing the sharpening stone from it.

“I never had anyone to stand up for me, either. Nobody but my siblings - and they couldn’t always be there. I would not wish the same for anybody else.”

Charlotte squeezes Camilla’s hand, sighing in defeat, thinking the Princess certainly has a great knack for obtaining the outcome she wants.

“When I act like a fragile thing who needs to be protected, you’re hardly what comes to mind as the person who’s going to do the protecting,” she says, teasing. Camilla smiles.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No. It’s not.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Camilla sits at her dresser, running a comb through her luscious lilac hair and humming a serene tune. It had been a long day, and she was glad that it was over.

Yet, just as she’s begun to wonder what scent she’d like in her bath, frantic knocks are heard from behind her doors. She sets down the comb, and quickly stands up to make her way to the door. To hear knocking like that, at this hour, can never mean anything good.

Sure enough, once she opens the door, she finds Charlotte standing behind it, in a way that she’s never seen her before. Her heart twists inside her chest.

Charlotte is holding her right elbow with her left hand; her hair a mess, and her face battered. Her left cheek is painfully reddened, and there are small cuts and bruises all over her face. A single tear streams down her cheek from a reddened eye.

“Charlotte…”

Charlotte suppresses a sob. “M-May I come in?”

Camilla swears she feels the wind being knocked out of her. Without thinking or saying anything else, she pulls Charlotte into her arms and closes the door behind her. Charlotte succumbs to her embrace, burying her face in Camilla’s chest and crying like she hadn’t done in years.

Camilla holds her tightly, fighting the tears that threaten to escape her own eyes. She knows that soon, she’ll be furious, but for now, she feels nothing but pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to come to. I didn’t-“ Charlotte utters, desperate. Camilla hastily shakes her head.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. It’s alright now, darling. I’m here,” Camilla coos, her voice like that of someone comforting a crying child. Charlotte sobs into her chest a little longer, letting the tears come out so that she’s able to eventually bring herself under control.

When she finally lifts her face with a sniffle, Camilla offers her a handkerchief, which Charlotte bashfully accepts. Camilla leads her to her bed, allowing her to sit down and to cry the rest of her tears.

Charlotte eventually draws in a long breath, finally seeming to have calmed. She turns to see that Camilla is watching her with the most pained expression of concern she’s seen in years. “Gods. Princess Camilla, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what got into me.”

Camilla places a comforting hand on her cheek. “Stop. Stop apologizing. You’re already here. Tell me what happened, darling. Who did this to you?”

Charlotte looks away, biting her lip.

“Charlotte,” Camilla insists. “Who did this? Was it those women from this afternoon?” Still refusing to face her, Charlotte nods.

Camilla clenches her fists at her side, trying her damn hardest to control the wrath that quickly radiates throughout her body. _I’ll kill them, I swear I’ll kill them_. In spite of herself, she swallows her anger, telling herself that she can save it for when she’s done taking care of Charlotte.

“What do you need? How can I help you?” she asks, her voice about as sincere as a voice can be.

“I. I don’t know. I don’t know why I came here,” Charlotte admits. It was true. After she’d been struck, her body moved almost of its own accord toward Camilla’s room. She wasn’t even sure how it had happened.

“I’ll kill them,” Camilla declares.

“No. You won’t. This isn’t your problem.”

“It is my problem now, isn’t it? I’ll kill them.”

“No!”

Camilla’s eyebrows furrow, her countenance suddenly impatient. _Why is she so stubborn. Why won’t she allow herself to be stood up for, just once._

“I’m sorry, darling, but you can’t stop me,” Camilla says, decisive.  
  
It is then that Charlotte flings her body unto Camilla’s, crushing their lips together. Her actions are so sudden and impulsive that she altogether forgets the physical pain she’d been feeling.

Camilla reacts instantly, her arms coiling around Charlotte’s waist, holding her tight as she clutches Charlotte’s lips with her own, their tongues brushing and pushing against each other. Charlotte’s kiss is the same as it had been last time - fierce, hungry. Camilla can’t help but moan into her mouth, her intense emotions translating onto her body’s movements.

As she had the last time she was in Camilla’s room, Charlotte props herself onto Camilla’s lap, straddling her on the bed with her knees. She makes out with her hard, as if burying everything she’d been feeling into searing hot kisses.

Before she can consider what she’s doing, Charlotte pulls away, breathless, her hands moving to clutch the straps and clasps of her armor, peeling it off as quickly as she can. Camilla helps her, easing her body out of its constraints. Once Charlotte is only in her under garments, she takes Camilla’s lips again, letting a breathy moan escape from her lips into Camilla’s mouth.

When she begins to reach for Camilla’s nightgown, Camilla stops her. “Charlotte. Charlotte, wait. Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re hurt.” Charlotte shakes her head in dismissal.

“I’m fine, I’ve had far worse. Please, just. Take me,” she pleads, her fingers tangling in Camilla’s hair.

Camilla almost groans, moving to pull her nightgown up and off of herself. She could never deny a request like that, much less coming from Charlotte. Once they’re both stripped down to their bra and panties, Camilla moves herself back to the middle of the bed, dragging Charlotte with her.

Both women kneel on the mattress, lips clashing together, bodies desperately clinging to each other, hands seeking flesh. Their kisses are white hot, far more urgent than any they’d shared.

“I want to touch you,” Charlotte breathes, her voice hardly-there. She dives down to cover Camilla’s neck with biting kisses as Camilla reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. Its straps falling onto the bed, her breasts press against Charlotte’s own, creating a whole other form of pleasure.

Charlotte releases the skin of Camilla’s neck with a pop, its surface now blemished with red and purple. “Gods,” she utters at the sight of Camilla’s bare breasts. They’re even more perfect than they’d looked in her armor. Not wasting another second, she takes them into her hands, squeezing tightly, and eliciting a groan from the princess.

“Mhmm, yes,” Camilla murmurs, her fingers running into Charlotte’s blonde hair. “That’s it, darling, touch me.”

Encouraged, Charlotte leans down, taking a nipple into her mouth. She swirls her tongue around the hard nub, wanting to feel it all over. Camilla moans, holding her head against her breast, her eyes shut tight in pleasure.

Charlotte turns her attention to the other breast, licking and sucking at it as if for dear life while her hand kneads and rubs at the other. For the second time that day, she doesn’t know what’s gotten into her. All she can feel is a feral, carnal desire for Camilla consuming her from her very core.

She bites down on the nipple, hard and bruising, and Camilla gasps luridly. Somehow Charlotte knew that she wouldn’t like to be handled gently. Then, all too abruptly, Camilla pulls Charlotte’s mouth from her chest. She lays back against the (many, many) pillows, bending her knees in front of her in order to pull her panties down, and off.

Charlotte blinks, almost unable to believe that a naked Camilla now lays in front of her, on her bed. But Camilla leaves her no time for admiring.

“Eat me out,” she orders, having that commanding edge to her voice, and it’s so hot, it’s so fucking hot.

Charlotte obediently falls to all fours, crawling toward Camilla, and doesn’t hesitate before pressing her mouth against Camilla’s waiting, dripping cunt.

A gasp escapes Camilla’s lips when Charlotte’s tongue draws a long line over her slick folds. Charlotte can hardly contain herself. Camilla is so warm, so wet, she’s perfect. She wants nothing more than to stay exactly where she is until she’s given Camilla the orgasm she deserves.

Charlotte holds Camilla’s hips, securing her position as her tongue now draws quick circles over Camilla’s clit. Camilla quivers and writhes underneath, the lewdest sounds escaping her. She tangles her fingers in Charlotte’s hair, holding her between her legs.

“Mm, yes, that’s it, darling…Fuck, just like that,” she purrs, her free hand clutching the sheets beneath her, as if using them as leverage to keep herself connected to reality.

Charlotte then presses her tongue flat against Camilla’s clit, eliciting a sharp, loud gasp. Realizing she’s found the spot, she takes the sensitive nub into her lips, sucking on it gently, letting it make messy, wet sounds every time it leaves her mouth.

Camilla instinctively jerks her hips upward, grinding her cunt against Charlotte’s mouth, seeking more.

“Fuck yes, darling, keep going,” she demands, her clutching hand at Charlotte’s hair harder, pulling at it with enough force to create a pain-edged pleasure.

Knowing that she’s close, Charlotte presses her mouth tighter against Camilla’s cunt, her lips enclosing the clit harder, then releasing and running flat over it, again and again. Pulling at Charlotte’s hair, Camilla’s body quivers and trembles, intense jolts of pleasure coursing through her veins.

“Oh, _yes_ , Charlotte, _FUCK_ -“

With her Charlotte’s name falling from her lips, Camilla comes hard against her mouth, moving her hips in hardly-controlled thrusts. She rides out her climax, holding Charlotte in place, making her stay where she is until she’s enjoyed it to the very last bit.

Once her hold relaxes, Charlotte pulls away, pushing herself up, and wiping her dripping chin with the back of her arm. Camilla opens up her arms invitingly, and Charlotte crawls into them, being greeted with a hot, firm kiss on her lips. Camilla runs her tongue into her mouth, tasting herself. It’s only when she pulls away to have a good look at her that Camilla sees the injuries on her face up close.

Her heart twists within her again. Camilla’s lips turn into a frown entirely unfitting of someone who’d just had a great orgasm. Charlotte’s face darkens with concern. Concern! For Camilla!

“What’s wrong?” she murmurs, hushed and careful. Camilla shakes her head.

“Nothing, darling. Come here.”

She pulls Charlotte into another kiss, this one slow, gentle. She lets Charlotte’s lips glide languidly over hers. They then separate with wet sounds of skin against skin.

Camilla leans down, nuzzling at Charlotte’s neck and collarbone, her lips just hardly ghosting over the skin there.

“I want to make you feel good now,” she whispers in Charlotte’s ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. She’d almost driven herself crazy eating Camilla out. But before moving to strip Charlotte of the rest of her clothing, she looks into her eyes. “May I?”

“Gods, please,” Charlotte pleads. She doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anything so much.

With permission granted, Camilla reaches behind Charlotte to undo her bra, casting it to the side. She hums an _mm_ when Charlotte’s naked breasts come into view. It isn’t as if she hasn’t seem them before. But now, up close like this, they’re just divine. She takes the two mounds into her hands and kneads them softly, letting her fingers ghost over the pretty pink nipples.

Charlotte closes her eyes, breathing in heavily, letting her back arch into Camilla’s gentle, yet firm touch. It’s such a contrast from the way she’d previously handled her.

Camilla leans down, pressing kisses to Charlotte’s exposed throat. Charlotte sighs her pleasure, running her fingers through Camilla’s hair, occasionally letting an _mmph_ escape her.  
  
Camilla then moves back up, tracing a long, wet line along the shell of Charlotte’s ear with her tongue. Charlotte’s entire body twitches, her hands clutching Camilla’s hair.

“Charlotte…Darling, Charlotte,” Camilla coos, her voice sweet as nectar. “What would you like me to do with you?”

“Touch me, Camilla. Please.”

“Touch you? Where…here?” Camilla coaxes, one of her hands squeezing Charlotte’s breast tightly.

“Y-yes…But not just there.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, her hand traveling down Charlotte’s tight abdomen, painfully slow. Charlotte gasps as Camilla’s fingers make contact with her pussy.

“Here?”

“Yes!” Charlotte nods breathlessly, enclosing her arms around Camilla’s neck.

“Please, Camilla, I need you.” There’s a desperation in her voice that sets a fire within Camilla alight. It makes forget everything else; in that moment, she exists only for Charlotte.

Her lips claim Charlotte’s, absorbing a moan as her fingers begin to rub languid circles over Charlotte’s clit. She deepens their kiss, allowing her tongue to claim Charlotte’s mouth while her hand works at her pussy. She feels like she could get drunk on the way Charlotte moans desperately into her mouth.

When she feels Charlotte struggling for air, she releases her lips, allowing her to breathe. Her gaze searches for Charlotte’s.

“Do you like that, darling?”

“Yes…yes, Camilla, I love it-“

“Mm…That’s it…Just let me take care of you,” Camilla whispers, her fingers applying more pressure to Charlotte’s clit - and Charlotte melts, almost becoming a rag doll in Camilla’s arms.

Camilla’s hand reaches further down, and two fingers sink easily into Charlotte’s cunt.

 _“Fuck,”_ Charlotte breathes, overcome with the pleasure of being filled with Camilla’s fingers.

“Gods, you’re so wet,” Camilla says. She pushes her fingers all the way in, curling them once they’re far enough, seeking Charlotte’s sweet spot. The way those warm, wet walls clench around her fingers is absolutely maddening.  
  
“Camilla…f-fuck-“

“Hush now, darling…Just relax and let me fuck you,” Camilla interrupts, bringing Charlotte’s lips into her own again, her fingers beginning to thrust into Charlotte. She doesn’t bother with teasing, this time. She kisses hard, deep, wanting to give Charlotte as much pleasure as she can.

Charlotte contorts her body, holding tightly onto Camilla, her eyes shut as she submits her whole self to the pleasure of Camilla’s ministrations.

Camilla fucks her harder, her fingers thrusting in and out faster, curling at just the right angle to hit Charlotte’s cunt in the right place. Charlotte bucks her hips into her hand, wanting more.

“Camilla… _Camilla_ ,” she moans, her voice cracking with overstimulation.

“Oh, darling, you're so tight around my fingers,” Camilla murmurs, her voice low, sensual. The way she sounds when she’s busy with fucking Charlotte turns the latter on even more.

Camilla keeps up the pace, and allows her thumb to press against Charlotte’s clit while her index and middle fingers thrust into her. Charlotte gasps, beginning to feel her body being taken over by tremors.

“Camilla, _gods_ please- I’m so close,” Charlotte blurts out, her brain hardly managing enough cognition to form words anymore.

Camilla fucks her faster, her fingers moving in and out of her pussy at a blinding pace. “Charlotte…” she calls, breathless. “Charlotte, darling. Look at me.”

Charlotte obeys, reopening her eyes to look into Camilla’s, and she’s met with that intense, feral gaze that she’s come to love.

“Come for me, Charlotte. Come for me and say my name as you do,” Camilla beseeches, her free hand taking one of Charlotte’s nipples and squeezing it between her fingers.

“Oh gods, _oh_ , gods, — _CAMILLA!!_ ”

Charlotte screams as she thrusts her hips into Camilla’s fingers, her vision turning to white, losing all sense of everything but pleasure as her climax takes over her body. Holding on to Camilla for dear life as she rides out her peak, she swears that she could die.

Once the waves of pleasure subside, Charlotte sees stars, hardly able to find her breath again. Camilla carefully withdraws her fingers, bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean, one by one. Uninhibited, Charlotte grabs Camilla’s face in her hands and kisses her deeply. Camilla kisses back, her hand smoothing over Charlotte’s disheveled blonde hair.

When she pulls away, Charlotte whispers a hushed thank you into Camilla’s ear, then collapses on top of her; their breasts fitting against each other. Camilla smiles, her hand still running comforting touches over Charlotte’s hair.

“Stay here with me tonight,” Camilla says. It’s more of an order than a request.

“You don’t have to talk about it now, but will you please tell me about what happened tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Charlotte responds, warm consolation washing over her body like the magic of a healing staff. Outside her field of vision, Camilla smiles.

“Good girl. Sleep now, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

Sighing against Camilla’s skin, Charlotte relaxes, her eyelashes fluttering shut. Camilla continues to watch her as she succumbs to sleep.

She isn’t entirely sure where this deep-rooted affection for Charlotte had come from. Then again, it wasn’t as if Camilla’s taking towards others was easily explained. She figures that she can worry about it some other time. For now, she’s thankful to hold Charlotte in her arms, and tries not to think too hard about what she’ll do to the snakes who hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> didn't think i'd continue this fic, yet here we are. some more feelings happen

During one particularly dreary afternoon, Camilla finds herself on her window seat, her eye glued on a romance novel, and a cup of tea beside her that has gone lukewarm. Both of her retainers are out on a mission, and her siblings are occupied. She’s bored, and lonely, and so naturally she turns to the pages of a book to distract herself. 

She was fairly accustomed to sudden disturbances and unexpected happenings of all sorts going on at the castle, but what she certainly did not expect, was for Charlotte to come bursting into the room as she did then. She still wore her Fighter’s ensemble, and took loud, heavy strides.

Camilla looks up from her book, perplexed. Charlotte doesn’t give her time for a greeting.

“What are you playing at, Camilla?” she exclaims.

Camilla raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“What. Are you. Playing at,” Charlotte repeats, spitting out every syllable with a ferocity most would deem uncharacteristic of her — but that Camilla had gotten used to, of course, and was quite fond of.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Camilla says, calm. One could never tell that she had just been yelled at by a furious-sounding woman.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. What is this? What are we doing?”

Camilla gives a brief chuckle, not so much from amusement, but from bewilderment. “Are you asking me what we are?”

“Well, maybe I am! Maybe I’m a little confused because for the past few months, we’ve been fucking, and not interacting much otherwise. Maybe I’d like to know where it puts me when I’ve been sharing the bed of the First Princess every now and again.”

Camilla sighs. “Charlotte, I thought we had gone over this.” She steals a tiny glance at the bottom of the page she’d been reading, and Charlotte promptly slaps the book from Camilla’s hand with the back of hers. It hits the ground with a loud thud, and Camilla points daggers at her with her eye.

“That was  _ not _ necessary,” she threatens.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you! Not your damn book!” Charlotte spits back.

Camilla stands, towering over Charlotte, and taking every advantage of it to make herself appear imposing. “What is it you want, Charlotte?”

“An explanation would be nice. We were supposed to meet near the orchard today, for one. And you didn’t show. I thought you might have been busy, or with your father. And then a maid tells me you’ve been sitting by the window, by yourself, reading all afternoon.” Charlotte’s tone then makes it very clear that she is making an accusation.

Camilla blinks. Were they supposed to meet? Ah, now she does remember mentioning it the last time she and Charlotte spent the night together. But that had been almost a week ago, and with so much else going on, it had simply slipped her mind.

“I forgot,” Camilla admits.

Charlotte looks incredulous. “You forgot.”

“Yes.”

“Good to know I’m of so little importance to you.”

“Oh, please. You are being over-dramatic,” Camilla says. “I had a very busy couple of days. I mean it when I say it simply slipped my mind. I invited you to the orchard because I wanted to see you.”

“And then you forgot about it. Is that all I am to you? A toy that you can pick up and put down whenever you please?”

Camilla’s expression goes blank. “I forget a lot of things.”

Charlotte huffs, crosses her arms, like she’s trying to contain herself. “What do you want from me, Camilla?”

“Does our status, or lack thereof, unnerve you that much?”

“It unnerves me now. You’re a princess. People have been giving me looks.” She pauses. “And maybe…maybe I don’t like just being your plaything!”

“Charlotte, please don’t say that. You are  _ not _ just my ‘plaything’. I care about you. You know that.”

“But you forget when you’re supposed to meet me.”

Camilla sighs. “Will you sit with me, Charlotte?”

Charlotte hesitates, but relents, taking a place across from Camilla on the window seat. Camilla looks at her with gentle eyes.

“This sort of thing doesn’t come easy for me. I don’t…” She bites her lip. “I’m not good with defining my affections. They’ve always just been there. Have never needed a why, or a how.”

“I get that,” Charlotte says.

“I’m fond of you, Charlotte. Your personality intrigues me. You are beautiful, strong and independent, which I find myself drawn to. Perhaps…” She reaches for Charlotte’s hand, who takes it after just a moment’s hesitation.

“Perhaps, in another life, one where I wasn’t a princess of this kingdom and hadn’t grown up as I did, I may have been able to court you properly.”

Charlotte squeezes Camilla’s hand a bit, her anger dissipating. She agrees with what Camilla had said before — she was being overdramatic. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to part of Nohr’s royal family. Camilla already did so much.

“I don’t need you to court me properly,” she said. “I just needed to know that, that I—”

“Mean something to me?” Camilla finishes for her.

“…Yeah.”

Camilla smiles, soft and warm. “Rest assured, darling. You mean a great deal to me. I am sorry that I made you feel otherwise.”

Charlotte smiles back at her. “It’s alright. I’m sorry for just…getting all up in your face like that.”

Camilla giggles. “You always make such interesting word choices, dear.”  

Charlotte grins at her. “Let me make it a little more literal, then.” She lunges forward, taking Camilla’s face into her hands and planting a hot kiss on Camilla’s lips. Camilla moans a bit into her mouth, circles her arms around Charlotte’s thin waist, and returns her kiss.

There isn’t much room on the window seat, so Charlotte moves to sit between Camilla’s legs. It puts her into a perfect position, Camilla quickly notes, to grind against her as they kiss.

She does, and little mewls come from within Charlotte’s mouth. “We’re still technically in public, you know,” she breathlessly notes when they pull away to breathe. “Not scared we’re gonna be caught?”

“Only a bit,” Camilla says, smug. “I probably shouldn’t fuck you out here, but we can afford to play a little.”

Charlotte is about to give a sardonic remark of her own, but within a split second Camilla’s lips are upon hers again, hard and biting. Their tongues push against one another, and Charlotte has a brief thought that Camilla is a ridiculously good kisser. She would never let herself be upstaged, though, so she moves to make sure that Camilla’s bottom lip is just as swollen and bruised as hers when they’re done.

Camilla relinquishes her iron grip on Charlotte’s waist for a moment to run a hand up that exposed abdomen of hers, drinking in the lines of the taut muscles underneath. She reaches for her partially covered breast, squeezing at the soft flesh that fits oh-so-perfectly in her hand.

_ “Ah,” _ Charlotte whines, almost like she’s surprised. Camilla knows that she isn’t.

Another hand reaches up to try to take Charlotte’s neck and pull it to herself, but then Camilla is bitterly reminded that Charlotte is still wearing her damn armor, and that as long as it stays on, touching or even seeing Charlotte’s pretty neck is impossible.

She growls, pulling Charlotte to herself by her hair instead. “Let’s go to my room,” she whispers in her ear, though her tone is much more feral than is commonplace for a whisper.

“Why?” Charlotte teases, tense as her body writhes under Camilla’s ministrations. “I thought you said we could afford to play here.”

She moans when Camilla bites at her earlobe. “But I want to take that armor off of you. I want to cover your neck in some fresh new marks.”

“Mm,” Charlotte groans, grinding up into Camilla. “What else?”

Camilla chuckles. “Oh, you know what else. I want to kiss you senseless. To play with and suck on these—”  She squeezes Charlotte’s breast, and Charlotte quivers, “To fuck you until you’re shouting my name and coming all over my fingers.”

_ “Gods,” _ Charlotte blurts out, drunk on Camilla’s touch, her dirty words. “Please.”

Camilla pulls away suddenly, pushing Charlotte so that she falls back on the edge of the seat. She stands, and extends her hand for Charlotte to take. When Charlotte does, she yanks her upwards with a force only she would be capable of, and says in her ear, “If no one else was around, I would carry you.”

They walk to her room subtly holding hands, though Charlotte’s movement is more of an awkward waddle than a walk.

 

* * *

 

About an hour and a half pass before Charlotte is laying on the silk sheets of Camilla’s bed, exhausted, and still seeing stars in the haze of her third orgasm. Camilla had indeed made her come all over her fingers. Then she’d eaten her out, while Charlotte ate her out. Then they’d grinded on each other until, yet again, they were both coming.

Camilla regains her senses first, and she slowly crawls over Charlotte, looking down at her with a soft, slightly clouded eye. “Charlotte,” she coos. “Charlotte, darling, are you alright?”

Charlotte makes some sort of unintelligible noise, then whispers, “I’m fantastic.”

Camilla smiles with satisfaction, places a kiss on Charlotte’s forehead. “Is there anything I can get you? Some food, water?”

“Water would be nice. But,” she says before Camilla can get up, “Before that, I’d like it if you’d stay in bed and hold me a little longer.”

She watches as Camilla all but melts. “Your wish is my command,” she says before crawling back next to Charlotte, laying beside her and pulling her towards herself. She really is just tall enough to be the perfect big spoon, Charlotte thinks.

Charlotte takes Camilla’s hand that’s in front of her, and brings it to her lips to place a kiss on it. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“For…all of this. For being understanding earlier. For being good to me.”

Camilla laughs a bit, nudges the back of Charlotte’s head. “You know you have nothing to thank me for.”

Only a few minutes pass before they both inevitably fall into slumber; but not before consider for a frightening moment, what should happen if they were to fall in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy i sure love me some cliffghangers, don't you?? ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> sorry about the short chapter but Blease comment i'm a starving writer and i need those to feed my family and my crops
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camilla gets an idea.

They have sex slower than usual, this time.

They’d both been tired. Peacetime was easier on the mind, but much less so on the body. Camilla had far more royal duties now than she did when her father was king. Charlotte didn’t feel the need to take on mercenary work anymore, but she’d almost doubled up on her training.

This time they’re not as desperate. There are more gentle caresses, deep sighs and lingering kisses. It’s not so much lust, as it is a deep craving for affection that both conceal deep inside, and try to satisfy in each other’s arms once in a fortnight.

Camilla seems particularly exhausted. She lays quietly amid the messy violet sheets, taking slow breaths, gazing at the ceiling.

While also worn out, Charlotte grows restless rather quickly. She’s not very good at sharing long silences. She fidgets a little with her hair.

And a thought comes to her.

“Camilla,” she says.

Camilla’s response is a tiny “mm?”

“Can I ask you something a bit personal?”

A bit unexpected, but it doesn’t affect Camilla much. “Of course, dear.”

Charlotte is quiet for a long moment. Camilla was on the verge of falling asleep when,

“Do you sleep with your retainers?”

Camilla’s eye widens for a second, then she laughs. “You’ve taken quite the interest in my, hmm, status, lately.”

Charlotte shrugs. “Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not, given you are currently naked and in my bed.” She chuckles, pulls Charlotte close again, and presses a kiss to the back of her neck. “I have slept with Selena before. But not Beruka.”

“Oh,” Charlotte says. She’s admittedly a bit distracted. Camilla’s embrace is warm and enveloping. She’s so tall.

Camilla tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Charlotte’s ear, and places another kiss there. “May I ask why that question in particular? Are you jealous, perhaps?”  
“I’m not jealous,” Charlotte says. She sounds sincere. “I really was just curious. I’d be surprised if--”

“If?”

“If your answer had been no.”

Camilla laughs again. “My, just what sort of princess and employer do you think I am?” There’s playful shock in her voice.

Charlotte _tsks_. “A very unique one.”

“Unique, hm? I shall take that as a compliment.”

Charlotte groans lazily, turning her head just so, leaving a bit more of her neck exposed to Camilla. She’s asking for more kisses, and Camilla grants them to her.

They’re quiet for another long moment. Camilla is pondering. Charlotte’s given her an idea.

“Say, Charlotte,” she says.

“Yes?”

“Would you be interested in the idea of serving as my retainer, in the future?”

Charlotte’s heart rate immediately picks up. She fumbles around the sheets to turn and face Camilla. “Come again?”

“It’s just an idea,” Camilla says. “You don’t have to have an answer right now.”

“But that’s-- you--” she’s so incredulous, she can hardly form a sentence. “You already have two retainers.”

Camilla sighs for just long enough for Charlotte to detect a bit of melancholy. “For now, I do. But Selena is…” she bites her lip. “I suspect she’s to leave very soon. To return to her homeland.”

“I...Oh.”

“I’ve not thought about finding another, but,” She looks at Charlotte’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be opposed to taking you on as a retainer at all. You are strong and capable. I trust you.”

Charlotte turns red. She hates that Camilla can fluster her like that.

“And,” Camilla continues, a half-grin on her lips. “The pay is significantly higher than what you currently earn.”

“Y-you’re trying to bribe me,” Charlotte accuses, only half-joking.

Camilla smiles at her. “As I said, it’s only an idea, for now. You needn’t think about it yet.”

“I will, er. Consider it.”

Camilla chuckles, and kisses Charlotte’s forehead. “Thank you, darling. Now turn back around, if you’d please. I’d like to hold you a bit longer.”

Charlotte pouts, but turns immediately. Camilla doesn’t need to see the blatant evidence of her agitation that’s on her reddened cheeks. Camilla’s arm wraps around her and pulls her close again.

Being a Princess of Nohr’s retainer may have sounded like a dream to her, once. Now she has more than just one reason to hesitate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some conversations with Selena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no sexytimes this chapter ;( it's still a camillotte smutfic tho, i swear. just trust me on this

Night time finds Charlotte in one of the common rooms reserved for more esteemed servants to the royal family - high-ranking military, and such. She likes it here. It’s cozy, and the many sofas look and feel expensive. The fireplace is warm. Charlotte likes surrounding herself with such things.

She’d been alone, reading a book a bit absentmindedly. It was more to give her something to do than anything. She’d gotten less invested in her novels, lately.

A rather loud thud announces the door to the room opening and closing. Charlotte hears footsteps coming towards her, then a voice.

“Yo.”

“Evening, Selena,” she says, without turning or lifting her eyes from the book. She’s gotten good at recognizing the woman’s voice, and odd greetings.

Selena carelessly plops onto the sofa across from Charlotte, removing her shield and belt. “What’re you reading?”

Charlotte looks up at her with a raised eyebrow. Since when did Selena care what she was up to?

“Nothing interesting. Why do you care?”

Selena scowls in a manner very characteristic of her. “I was just _curious_ , sheesh. You’re so catty.”

“And you’re not subtle at all,” Charlotte hits back. “I know you wouldn’t try to make small-talk with me for no reason. Do you need something?”

Selena rolls her eyes, crosses her arms. “You’ve been hanging around Lady Camilla an awful lot lately.”

“Yeah. So what?”

 _“So,”_ Selena’s voice goes up several tones. “That it’s kind of in my job description to be watchful over that stuff. What’s the deal with you and her?”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow again. “Is it in your job description to be nosy?”

“Why, you--!”

Selena stands, but Charlotte motions for her to calm, urging her to sit back down. Selena huffs, but does so.

“If you really want to know, why don’t you just ask her? You’re close enough with her to do that.”

“Uh, yeah, but I’m also a decent person and I don’t like to _pry_. So I’m asking you. You gonna answer me or what?”

Charlotte shrugs. “There is no deal. The answer to your question is a non-answer.”

“Bullshit,” Selena spits out. She looks far more serious now. She stands and walks in front of Charlotte, who looks up at her with a glare. “I know you’ve been fucking,” she says. “I can’t have a say in who she chooses to take to bed, but I don’t _trust_ you.”

Charlotte briefly laughs. “You don’t trust me? It’s not up to you to trust me. Lady Corrin does, as does the rest of the royal family. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Lady Corrin is _incredibly_ naive,” Selena quickly interjects. “And she knows that you’re not gonna go getting yourself into trouble as long as you keep getting your paycheck and a pass to hang around the castle. But that’s about it. I’m onto you, though.”

“Uh-huh.”

“ _Uh-huh_ is right.” She pauses for a moment. “Look. I don’t want you to think I’m threatening you, or anything, but just beware. You better not be playing games with Lady Camilla.” Selena, then, sounds very uncharacteristically grave.

Charlotte puts her book down, and stands to level with her. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not playing any _games_. Your concern is appreciated.”

She turns to leave, and Selena calls from behind her back,

“Whatever. Just know I’m watching you. Closely.”

Charlotte makes a fleeting “see you” motion with her hand, and continues on her way.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Selena cannot seem to disguise her agitation as she helps Camilla settle in for the night. She’s clumsier, rougher with her hands. She’s frowning, and visibly distracted.

Camilla observes her for a while before asking.

“Selena, dear,” she says, gently. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lady Camilla,” she lies. She does so almost on instinct, because she’s fully aware that lying to Camilla is pointless. Her Lady can read her like a book.  
  
Selena fumbles with the jewelry on Camilla’s vanity as a distraction, and Camilla watches her from the edge of her bed.

“Mm. I think you do know.” Her eye follows Selena as she fidgets about. “And it would make me happy if you would share it with me.”

That makes Selena stop. She sighs with a slight bit of irritation, putting down the lavish necklace she had in her hand. She turns to face her liege.

“I’ve been worried, is all.”

Camilla blinks. “Worried? Whatever about?”

“Worried about you and that woman.” She says the words quickly, like she’s embarrassed to say them.

Camilla seems surprised. “Hmm. I’m assuming you mean…”

“I mean Charlotte,” Selena interrupts. “I would never want to pry into your personal life, Lady Camilla, but I--” she bites her lip. “I don’t trust that woman. I don’t trust her intentions.”

Camilla chuckles in that way she does when she’s told something she finds surprising or hard to believe. “Oh? Does my darling Selena fear for my heart? Afraid I’m letting myself be taken advantage of by a cunning temptress?”

Selena’s face immediately turns bright red. “Wh-wh-wh--” she mumbles, because it sounds so ridiculous when Camilla puts it like that, but it’s not too far off from her concerns. “Why would you say it like that?!”

Camilla smiles. “Well, perhaps I said it so that you wouldn’t have to.”

Selena swallows. “Lady Camilla, she’s-- she has a track record. And it’s not pretty. It bothers me that someone like that would get so close to you.”

“Selena,” Camilla coos. “Come and sit down next to me.” She pats the mattress beside her. Selena complies with some hesitation.

Camilla’s eye is gentle when she looks at her. “I’m touched that you would worry about me, dearest. But surely you do not believe me so naive as to not know who Charlotte is and what she is known for.”

“N-no,” Selena admits.

“If Charlotte - or anyone - so much as thought about trying to deceive me in such a way, I would have known so for a long time. You know I am always two steps ahead, don’t you, dear?”

“Mhm.”

“Then you mustn’t worry. Rest assured, I always, always know what I’m doing.” She presses a soft kiss to Selena’s brow. “Alright?”

Selena, as expected, melts. “A-alright. I’m sorry, Lady Camilla. For-- for trying to--”

“Shh. Don’t apologize, dear. As I said, it makes me happy that you care that much for me.”

Selena’s expression turns serious. “I care about a whole lot, Lady Camilla. I...I always will.”

“I know, darling. I know.”

She hugs her, and it’s bittersweet. Camilla is genuinely touched by Selena’s concern for her, but she can read the fineprint within her choice of words. She can tell that Selena has been especially vigilant recently, because soon she won’t be around to protect her anymore.

Camilla has always thought of herself as a woman who didn't need anyone to protect her. Yet now, somehow the prospect of Selena leaving her makes her feel more vulnerable than she has in many years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and nothing bad ever happened again
> 
> right?
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so uhh i think i may have turned this into a lesbian novella. i plead guilty but offer no apologies

Charlotte dreams about having sex with Camilla.

She almost never has very vivid dreams, let alone lewd ones. But for two nights in a row, she dreams about being in Camilla’s bed, and it’s sharp and colorful and it feels real. She dreams that Camilla holds her hands as she goes down on her. That Camilla watches her with that intense violet gaze as she unravels. That she coos, “my darling girl,” right before Charlotte wakes up.

Those nights, Charlotte wakes up mellow, and confused, and wet. She groans as she gets out of bed and makes her way to her bathroom to wash herself. Then she sits in her bathtub, her mind wandering. She can’t decide if she hates or not.

Afterward, she spends the day with the ghost of a tender touch haunting her in the back of her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time they meet, Camilla is drunk.

Or, at least, drunk enough that it’s noticeable. Acting poised despite consuming alcohol was a skill Camilla had been forced to perfect over the years, and as such, it was not often that she let herself be caught in a state which would indicate that she’d been drinking.

Selena had been gone for three days, and Charlotte hadn’t seen her at all since it happened. She’d imagined that Camilla would grieve her retainer’s departure, but she’d never gotten to see just how much the princess was affected by separation of any kind.

When she spots Charlotte from across the hall, Camilla immediately dismisses Xander, whom she’d been speaking to, and comes toward her in what’s more of a march than a walk. Her hips sway an unusual amount, and Charlotte can quickly tell that it’s not because she’s trying to look sensual, but because she’s actually struggling to keep her footing. The closer she gets, the easier it becomes to see the marks on her cheeks left behind by dripping mascara.

“Camilla—” Charlotte begins, but she’s cut off by Camilla abruptly grabbing her hand in a vice grip.

“No talking,” Camilla blurts out. “My room.”

Charlotte knows that objecting would be pointless. She doesn’t want to object. The circumstances are certainly less than ideal, but there’s a ferocity to Camilla then that leaves her feeling heat in the pit of her stomach. That Camilla would need her so much, so urgently… She can’t help herself.

They’re quiet as they make their way to Camilla’s quarters at a brisk pace. Charlotte has to put in considerable effort to keep up with the strides of Camilla’s long legs, which makes her self-conscious for just a short moment.

The second Camilla shuts the door of her room behind them, she’s upon Charlotte. She hooks a hand behind the back of her neck and pulls her into a hard, biting kiss. Charlotte groans; she wasn’t expecting Camilla to get rough so fast, but she’s horny, and needy, so she succumbs.

She lets Camilla push her against the door, harshly run her hands over her abdomen to cup her breasts. She squeezes them, kneads them, digs into the skin with her nails.

It’s good — _very_ good — but she decides that even for Camilla, they’re moving a little too fast.

“Camilla,” she breathes when the princess releases her lips, moving her mouth to her neck instead.

“Camilla, we really— we should slow down—”

“Mm,” Camilla groans, low and guttural, grasping the skin of Charlotte’s neck between her teeth, biting and sucking with a voracity Charlotte isn’t sure she’d ever done before, even during their most intense nights together.

As good as it feels, and as much as the uninhibited part of Charlotte wants to let Camilla ravage her to her heart’s content, her right mind knows that this isn’t right.

“Stop it, Camilla,” Charlotte says, breathy, mustering her strength to push the princess away.

Camilla takes two steps back, and looks at her with a sad, slightly wet eye. Up this close, it’s even more obvious that she’s been crying.

“Stop?” Camilla says, and Charlotte doesn’t think she’s ever heard her sound so...somber. “Why?”

“Because,” Charlotte says. “You...you’re drunk.”

Camilla’s gaze drops to the ground. “Oh...I see.” She grasps her left shoulder with her right hand. “I see.”

Charlotte’s heart sinks. “H-hey now...I don’t mean stop entirely. I just meant—”

“It’s alright,” Camilla says, quietly, almost a whisper. She’s still averting her eye. “It...I understand.”

Since when did Camilla allow herself to sound like that? To sound so vulnerable, look so vulnerable? Charlotte had only ever seen the Second Princess of Nohr. A strong, proud woman, with a gentle voice and even gentler touch. Yet now she seems small, defenseless. A doe.

“Camilla,” Charlotte says, and even she’s surprised by how coddling she sounds. “Camilla, please. I just wanted you to take it slow.”

She reaches her hand out to Camilla. Camilla takes it, allows herself to look at Charlotte in the eyes again. But beyond that, she doesn’t move. She just stands looking, waiting. Waiting for Charlotte to take the next step. That too, is unprecedented. Had Selena’s departure really shaken her that much?

Charlotte sighs, leading Camilla to her bed. She pushes a bit so Camilla falls back onto it, and crawls over her. Camilla still has that same lost look in her eye. Charlotte leans in and kisses her lips, and notices that she can taste wine on them. She pulls away.

“Do you really want to do this?” She says, hesitant. As much as she wants it, she isn’t certain sex will do Camilla much good.

“I want it,” Camilla says, hooking a hand behind Charlotte’s neck and pulling her in. “I want you.”

Charlotte just looks at her for a moment. She looks at Camilla’s lips. So plump, so kissable. She could scream.

“Don’t you want me?” Camilla says, and now she’s starting to sound desperate.

Charlotte takes her cheek in her hand. “I do want you. I’m just not sure if—”

“Charlotte, please,” Camilla interrupts her. She scoots closer. “I just want to be with you.”

Charlotte inhales sharply, then leans in and kisses her, slow and deep. Camilla moans into her mouth, leaves her lips pliant for Charlotte to move. Their tongues meet, and Charlotte tangles her fingers in Camilla’s hair, and like every other time, a faint scent of lavender emanates from it. It’s the scent she remembers when she touches herself thinking about Camilla.

They kiss more. Charlotte pushes Camilla down and straddles her on the bed. She grinds her hips against her, pulls at her hair with a closed fist. All the while, Camilla is moaning into her mouth, returning her fervor but being oddly submissive.

Charlotte pulls her lips away with a pop, and Camilla looks up at her expectantly. She fumbles with the skirts of her dress, pulls it over her head and off of herself, then takes Camilla’s dress and pulls that off too.

She admires that sight for a minute, and feels a chill sweep through her blood. Camilla is so beautiful like that. Laying underneath her, semi-nude, her hair splayed all about her in lilac waves, her eye cloudy and glistening with fresh tears. Charlotte has never bothered trying to pinpoint her sexuality as one thing over another, but in that moment she thinks that this, this is an objective portrait of her attraction.

As if to add insult to injury, Camilla cups and kneads at her own clothed breasts as she looks up. Charlotte bites her lip, then covers Camilla’s hands with her own, massaging the soft skin. Camilla closes her eye, inhales deeply. “Mm. I love that.”  
“Oh?” Charlotte says.

“I love your touch, Charlotte.”

Charlotte grumbles like she’s frustrated. She reaches around to undo Camilla’s bra, then her own. She lays over her and kisses her again, moves her body so that their breasts press against each other. That too, is a sensation she can never, ever get enough of.

It escalates quickly from there. They toss and turn in their kiss, tangle their legs together, making a mess of the satin sheets underneath them. It’s desperate in a different way from before. Camilla doesn’t have that commanding edge that Charlotte usually likes so much, yet somehow, it’s a good thing. Camilla clings to her so tightly, like she’s afraid she might disappear otherwise.

Charlotte’s hand weaves through Camilla’s body, caressing every inch it can reach, until finally it reaches between the princess’ legs. She rubs there over cotton fabric, mewls because she can feel Camilla’s hot arousal through it.

 _“Charlotte,”_ Camilla moans, clinging at Charlotte’s arm. “Charlotte, come here.”

She pulls Charlotte forward so that she can reach her panties, and quickly tugs them off. She takes hers off too, and cradles Charlotte’s naked form against her own. She kisses into her neck.

“Charlotte,” she breathes again, _“Come here._ I want you all over me.”

Charlotte groans, wrapping her legs tightly around Camilla’s waist, doing everything she can to be as close as physically possible. “Camilla— I—”

“All over me,” Camilla repeats, sucking a bruise onto Charlotte’s neck and raking her nails down her back.

Charlotte gasps. She loves it. She wants to drown in this feeling of being enveloped by Camilla so thoroughly.

She puts a hand on Camilla’s torso for leverage, pushes herself up and grabs onto Camilla’s raised leg with her other hand. The angle works, and their clits make contact. They slide against one another and she swears she feels electricity course through her veins.

“Gods, Charlotte,” Camilla whines. She pulls herself up, and kisses Charlotte as they grind, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.

Charlotte grinds into her hard, and soon grows breathless. She pulls swollen lips away from Camilla’s. Camilla, she notices, looks like she's in a trance. Her eye looks darker than usual.

And the second their lips are apart, Camilla coaxes her back.

“Charlotte, _please,”_

“Camilla—”

“Please, Charlotte,” Camilla repeats. Her voice is a bit high, like she’s going to cry again. She clings to her, wraps her arms around her neck. “Please. I just want you.”

Charlotte doesn’t understand what she’s saying, when they’re already naked, in bed, grinding into each other.

“You...You already have me, Camilla.”

Camilla quickly shakes her head. “No. I _want_ you. I just want you to be mine.” She kisses Charlotte again, more teeth than lips, but this time Charlotte doesn’t let her. She pulls away.

“Hold on. What did you say?”

“I love you, Charlotte. I love you. Please, please be mine,” she is saying, trying to bring Charlotte back in.

And then, all of a sudden, it clicks. Everything makes sense. Suddenly Charlotte understands exactly what Camilla is doing.

-

-

Camilla’s vision goes dark for a few seconds, and when it comes back, her cheek stings where it had been violently slapped by Charlotte’s palm.

She touches her cheek with her hand, and is surprised to see it doesn’t come away bloody. She turns to see Charlotte breathing heavily, with tears in her eyes, and a face angrier than any she’d ever seen on her before.

“You...you bitch,” Charlotte spits. “How dare you. How _dare_ you.”

“Charlotte—”

“No, don’t even start. I know _exactly_ what you’re doing,” she shouts. She doesn’t even care that she’s painfully loud even to her own ears. “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. How did I not see it before.”

She fumbles with the labyrinth of sheets around them, feeling around for her clothes. “To think,” she continues. “To think that I thought you actually gave a shit about me for a single moment. I’m an idiot.”

Camilla can only watch her in stunned silence.

“But you didn’t, did you? You were using me just like you would a prostitute, to bury all your baggage. Hah! And I had a feeling, just a hunch, the entire time. Should have trusted my fucking gut, like I’ve done my entire life.” She pulls her dress back on.

“That’s— that’s not—”

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare try to say it’s not true. You’re fucked up from your retainer leaving you and you’re trying to use me — use my body — to forget it.” She sniffles, inelegantly rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand. “Everything I heard about you is true.”

Charlotte hops off the bed, picks up her hair ribbon from the floor. “Oh, and one more thing,” she turns back to face Camilla before she reaches the door. “If you try to pull the I’m-a-princess-and-have-authority-over-you card, I _will_ take this to Lady Corrin, or Lord Xander if I gotta. You may be my superior but I’m a human being too. Good fucking night.”

She slams the door loudly behind her. Camilla is left staring back at it, naked and crying on her bed, and with a heart shattered into thousands of pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh...oops? 
> 
> also i still really want comments ;; they motivate me to keep going!
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> night time routine with Beruka, and a talk with Niles.

For the past couple of nights, Beruka had been sleeping in Camilla’s room beside her. It was much easier, after all, since she would inevitably have to come running when the princess awoke in the middle of night, screaming with what couldn’t be called anything less than agony.

She would burst into the room, in assassin-mode and ready to eliminate whatever or whomever was threatening her liege, only to realize that she was alone in her bed, sometimes still half-asleep. Sometimes he would be half-naked, too. But she always crying, always shaking.

Beruka would be unsure how to proceed for only a short minute, before putting down her weapons, removing her heavy armor and slowly crawling onto the bed. Sometimes she would dodge misguided slaps and punches and kicks. She would restrain Camilla’s wrists if she had to.

Then she would hold her. Just hold her tightly as Camilla sobbed into her neck. She had come to enjoy Camilla’s warm embrace, but this was nothing like that. When she was like this, it felt more to Beruka like she might have been holding a crying child, in hopes they might calm. She would think, sometimes, that perhaps she should offer some word of comfort, but it’d be pointless. She wouldn’t know what to say.

So she just held her in silence. Held her liege, who was older, taller, and arguably stronger than her, until her sobs were reduced to the occasional sniffle, and her heart slowed to a more normal beat.

Once she was able to speak, Camilla would apologize profusely. For waking her, for worrying her, for letting herself be seen in such a state. She would swear that she’s been than this.

Beruka, though, would hardly hear a word of it. “It’s okay, Lady Camilla,” she would assure, over and over, even if Camilla would just shake her head say that no, it’s not okay, it’s not okay.

She wouldn’t even need to plead Beruka to stay. Beruka would never dream of leaving her lady alone when she was like that. So they would fall asleep together, though Beruka would get very little actual sleep, because as much as she enjoyed being close to Camilla, she just could not sleep properly with another human body so close to her.

As long as she remained there, though, Camilla wouldn’t wake up again. She still had nightmares, no doubt. She would toss in her sleep, call out names - mostly Selena’s. And most of all, she would mutter, “no”, “why”, and “don’t go.”

In the morning, Beruka would always have a glass of water ready. All of Camilla’s crying and shouting out would have dehydrated her and hurt her throat. She would ask Camilla if she’s okay.

And every time, Camilla would answer, “No, but I will be.”  


* * *

 

 

Over his years of service to Lord Leo, Niles had grown plenty accustomed to the strange things that often happened within the walls of Castle Krackenburg. Hardly anything surprised him anymore.

Still, when he was told by a maid that Princess Camilla had summoned him to her quarters one night, he found himself perplexed. He’d seen very little of the princess around recently, though he knew she was still in the castle, because Leo always made him aware of any outings his siblings went on. This time around, he wasn’t been told anything.

Very odd indeed.

It’s around ten-thirty at night by the time he makes his his way to her room. Late, to be sure, but it was when he’d had time. He knows Princess Camilla to be a late sleeper, anyway.

He knocks three times. No answer. That too, is odd. Surely she cannot be asleep.

He tries again. “It’s Niles, Lady Camilla,” he announces simply. Within thirty or so seconds, his sharp hearing catches a sound of footsteps making their way towards the door.

It opens, and reveals a Princess Camilla looking like much more of a mess than he’d ever seen her. She’s in a long, white sleeping gown that looks significantly crumpled. Her hair is not brushed, she’s not wearing makeup.

“Come in, Niles,” she says, stepping aside. He does, and she closes and locks the door behind her.

“Excuse me,” he says. Niles has never cared about politeness -- much less towards the nobility -- but he has very genuine respect for his lord’s family - perhaps for Camilla in particular. He’d come to find out she is not so different from him.

Camilla walks languidly back into her room, sits on the edge of her bed. “Sit down,” she softly commands. He looks around the room, finding more than one chaise to choose from. He shrugs a bit, picking a white one across from the bed, and sitting.

He looks at the princess, who still hasn’t said anything, and has her arms crossed in front of her and eye to the floor. It’s uncomfortable.

He clears his throat. “I say this as respectfully as possible, Lady Camilla. You look like shit.”

She scoffs, rolls her eye. “I’m aware.”

 _Good lord,_ he thinks then. _She didn’t even respond with something snide? What_ happened _to her?_

“I’m assuming the reason for that has to do with why you summoned me here?” he says.

Camilla draws in a breath. “You could say that.”

Niles crosses one leg over the other, getting comfortable in the chaise. “I would happy to help, milady, but might I ask why call on me, of all people? Surely you have others you can confide in.”

Camilla looks at him. “I do not wish to perturb my family with this. I have very few others in whom I can trust, and fewer still that I believe could...advise me, about this.”

“Ah,” Niles says. “I am flattered, Lady Camilla.” He fiddles with the armrest of the chaise a bit. “How, then, may I be of service?”

Camilla takes a long moment to think. “These things don't come easy to me,” she says.

“I have worked out that much, Lady Camilla. What sort of things are we talking?”

“People. Feelings.”

“Hm,” Niles hums. “Going through a lovers’ quarrel, perhaps?”

Camilla shrugs. “I would imagine that would require that the people involved be lovers.”

“So you have gotten into a squabble.”

“Of sorts.” She searches his eye for understanding. “Have you any idea with whom?”

“I have a theory,” Niles says. “Haven’t caught sight of little miss Charlotte anywhere near your quarters lately. I found that rather strange. Is she the one that has gotten milady in such a state?”

Camilla looks away. “I wasn’t her. It was me.”

“Oh?”

“I hurt her feelings.”

Niles’ eyebrow goes up just a bit. “Hmm. Recall that you said you were not lovers.”

“We weren’t.”

He looks at her in the eye. “How would you define being lovers, Lady Camilla?”

“Romantic involvement,” Camilla says. “Commitment. More than just sex.”

After the words leave her mouth, Camilla almost wants to scoff at herself. What does she know of these things, anyway? What does she know about being lovers - or love, really?

“And did you have those things with miss Charlotte?”

Camilla huffs. “I don’t know. Some of then, perhaps. I found myself -- becoming attached to her. Truly attached. I started thinking about making her my retainer.”

“And?” Niles pressed.

“And...I told her so. She always seemed happy in my company, but I--” she bites her lip. Niles can tell that she is struggling, but does not know what he can say or do to try to help her along.

Camilla takes a breath. “Since Selena left me, I’ve felt-- lost. Empty. Like there’s a hole in my heart. It burns.”

“Mhm.”

“I tried to distract myself to try to drown out the pain but I, I could not. It was too much. That pain, that longing, it would not relent.”

Niles just watches, listening. And he notices Camilla getting closer to tears with every word.

“So I-- I remembered I had Charlotte. I thought that having sex with her would help me stop feeling that pain, even if just for a moment.”

She breathes.

“I called her, and she came to me. That feeling of having someone in my arms, that tender, loving touch. I lost myself in it. Got drunk off of it. I--”

“You what, Lady Camilla?”

A tear drips from her eye and quickly runs down her cheek. “I told her I loved her. I was naked, in her arms, and I said I loved her. That I wanted her to be mine.”

Niles’ eye goes wide, and he holds back from saying _ouch_ out loud.

“She was so angry, she struck me. For two days my cheek was bruised from it.”

“She _struck_ you?”  
  
“Niles, I think she may have-- I think she may have loved me. And I said such a thing in that moment of reverie, when I had never said anything of the sort before. She saw through what I was doing. I _hurt_ her.”

There’s a long pause, and during it the only sound in the room is that of Camilla’s muffled crying. In his many years of serving Leo and his family, Niles had never seen her cry. It almost hurts.

“I don’t know what to do, now. I do not know how I could even begin to apologize to her.” She wipes her eye with the back of her hand.

Niles ponders for a moment.

“Do you love her?”

“I. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Not like that.”

“Not as she loves you, you mean?”

“I’m not certain that she loves me, either. I could not know.” She sniffles. “But I know that I have hurt her, perhaps irreparably so, and that hurts me. It has been eating me alive.”

Niles sighs. Here is a broken woman, he thinks. One that does not know how to direct her own affections, nor how to recognize the affections of others. She has wounded an honest woman’s heart - and thus compromised her own - and is suffering the consequences of it.

But how could he ever say such things to her? It does not fall to him, he thinks. They are things she must figure out on her own - perhaps with help from someone that could teach them to her.

“I'm sorry, Lady Camilla,” Niles says. He sounds as serious and earnest as Camilla has ever heard him.

“I don’t have all of the answers you need. But I do know that you need to take the time to sort out how you really feel about Charlotte, and about hurting her like that. You should only look for her when you have.”

She looks at him with a lost, confused gaze. “But how will I know, that I’ve sorted it out?”

“I can't tell you that, Lady Camilla. I wish that I could. It pains even me, to see you like this.”

She glances at the floor, and he checks on the pocket watch he brought with him.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She shakes her head.

“I shall take my leave, then.”

He stands from the chaise, makes his way towards her door.

“Thank you, Niles,” she murmurs before he leaves her room. He nods in acknowledgement.

Camilla is not certain what she had been expecting from the encounter. Still she felt grateful for the little guidance Niles had provided her. She lays back on her bed, and falls asleep thinking of the words he’d told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> being camilla is suffering
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some drinks with Corrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this time, sorry! stay with me though, the next one is in the works \o/

There had been a time when Charlotte disguised her true self from her army’s commander, and soon-to-be queen of the Kingdom of Valla. But Corrin had something about her that made it so easy for walls to come down. The princess was naive, but so earnest and pure of heart that Charlotte couldn’t help being honest around her, for better or for worse.

She sat across from Corrin at their cozy mess hall in the Astral Plane one afternoon. Even having restored peace in the kingdoms, they still found themselves using it sometimes. Charlotte, at least, had grown rather fond of the place. And while Corrin slowly worked through a plate of vegetarian chowder, Charlotte stabbed loudly and repeatedly into the wooden table with a sharp knife.

“I hate Felicia,” she said through gritted teeth. “I hate her. I hate her nonsensical commitment to maid work and I hate her stupid little stutter.”

Corrin just listened in silence as she ate. She had grown used to Charlotte’s anger being directed towards different people on different days, lately. She knew she didn’t actually hate whomever she was cursing at the time - she just had no other way to exert her pent up frustration.

And Felicia just so happened to have spilled some tea on her that day. It was more than enough reason for Charlotte to damn the very day she was born - at least until the burst of anger faded.

“And I hate that gross tomboy Princess Hinoka and her sad excuse for retainers that are little more than a pair of circus clowns with weapons in their hands.”

That made Corrin pause.

“Charlotte--”

“Nah, don’t even bother, Lady Corrin. I know what you’re gonna say and I assure you, I’m perfectly aware.”

Corrin sighed.

“I don’t know why _I_ bother. I’m sure everyone here hates me as much as I hate them.”

“That’s not true, Charlotte.”

“With respect, Lady Corrin, you don’t know shit.”

Corrin sighed again. The empathetic, somewhat sad look in her eyes never wavered, no matter how hateful Charlotte became in that, or any moment. She knew Charlotte wasn’t truly hateful. Just lonely, and a little lost.

“I wish I could help you more, Charlotte,” she said.

“Tch.” _You could help me by making sure I never ever have to look at your miserable bitch of a sister again,_ is what she thinks. But instead she says,

“If you could help me I’m sure you would have already. You’re like that.”

Corrin set her plate aside. “Well...now that I got some sustenance, would you like to head to the tavern for a drink or two? It’ll be my treat.”

Charlotte’s scowl faded, and she smiled. “I would like that.”

Corrin smiles back, and Charlotte links arms with her as they make their way out of the mess hall.

“Y’know, Lady Corrin, you really are too good.”

 

* * *

 

Over glasses of mead, Charlotte opens up some more. She would consider Corrin to be her good friend, and she knew she could speak freely around her without fear of judgment. Even so, however, no amount of closeness would make it easy for her to be completely honest in this situation. She had been hiding the true reason for her sour mood for a long time, now.

Corrin had things to open up about of her own, of course.

“My brothers keep asking me about marriage. They both assure me that they’re not trying to rush me, but it’s like, they’re doing so just by asking me so frequently!”

Charlotte nods at her with understanding eyes.

“I have so many other things to worry about. A whole kingdom to restore and two others to renew relations with. I don’t even have time to think about who I really am, let alone whom I want to spend my life with.”

Charlotte gets it, but she can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Corrin asks, slightly pouty.

“I’m sorry, Lady Corrin, it’s just. Our problems are so vastly different. You don’t have time to think about yourself, yet I have so much fucking time it just about drives me crazy. The more I think about myself and what I want, the less I know.”

Corrin’s brow furrows, and she takes a sip from her glass.

“You know, Charlotte... you’ve been awfully cryptic lately. It’s not like you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Corrin raises an eyebrow. “I think you do know. I think you just don’t want to tell me.”

“Maybe I don’t,” Charlotte says.

Corrin sighs, puts a gentle hand over Charlotte’s on the table. “Charlotte...This has to do with my sister, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Charlotte says immediately. “It doesn’t.”

“You don’t have to be scared of talking to me about it, you know… Just because Camilla is my sister, doesn’t mean that I--”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Charlotte snaps, slamming her glass on the table.

“I don’t want to talk about it with you or anyone. If I do it’ll just make me angry.”

Corrin looks at her with soft eyes. She feels sad for her.

“Charlotte, it’s just… I think there must be some misunderstanding. I’m not too sure what was happening between you two, but. I just know Camilla would never intentionally hurt anyone. Or-- at least not anyone that’s not an enemy.”

Charlotte scoffs. “I’ll spare you the details, Lady Corrin, but she lied to me. I despise being lied to. And maybe I’m a hypocrite because I lie on the daily -- but I never _ever _do it to people I care about.”__

__Corrin sighs. “It still seems very strange to me, but...I won’t meddle if you really don’t want me to. Just, know that if you need someone, even if just to listen to you, I’ll always be glad to help.”_ _

__Charlotte smiles, finishes off her glass. “I know. You’re a real doll, Lady Corrin.”_ _

__Between more glasses of mead, gossip and laughs, the two women end up having a long, joyful night. They make fun of Laslow, who gets rejected by at least three women. They attempt to sing along to the musicians’ tunes, and fail quite miserably. When it’s all over they wander back to their respective quarters with slightly stumbling feet._ _

__Charlotte insists that she drop Corrin off at her treehouse first. They share a tight hug._ _

__“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself today, Charlotte. Take-- _[hiccup]_ take care of yourself, ok.” _ _

__“Yea-huh. You too, Corrin.”_ _

__Corrin goes inside, and she (slowly) makes her way back to her own room. As soon as she’s inside, she throws off her clothes and doesn’t bother to put on any sleepwear. She lets herself plop onto the mattress, and immediately feels her eyelids become heavy. Still, just before she falls asleep, she wonders if perhaps she got herself tangled with the wrong Nohrian princess._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a mission to quell a violent uprising brings an unexpected turn of tide.

As the weeks went by, the wound in Camilla’s heart left behind by Selena’s departure began to heal. The process was slow, and not at all steady. There were days when you could hardly tell she had spent so long in a depressive episode, and days when it seemed as though all of the progress she’d made had been for naught.

She relied heavily on support from those close to her - her family, and Beruka. Each one of her siblings made it a point to check on and spend some time with her every day, no matter how busy they were with post-war efforts. Beruka still slept beside her each night, helping her through the nightmares.

On the good days, she felt renewed. She could enjoy cups of tea again, walks outside by the orchard, visits to Marzia in the stables. Still, even then, there was another dark cloud that seemed to follow her around at all hours of day and night, and that was her feelings of worry over Charlotte. Worry, regret, confusion. They would not leave her alone.

Every other day or so, she would try to get in touch with her. She would said maids with messages, or even hand-written notes. Still, every time, she was met with either a nonresponse, or outright rejection. The maids would tremble with anxious fear as they attempted to relay Charlotte’s responses - “Well you can tell _Princess Camilla_ that I do not want to see her.” Then Camilla would sigh, say thank you, and dismiss them.

She didn’t know how much time she truly spent like that. To her, it felt like months.

And when a breakthrough happens, it’s in a way that nobody could have ever expected.

 

* * *

 

Despite the war campaign being over, Nohr was far from being fully at peace. Years of political tension and unrest - and a great amount of resentment towards the crown - could not be qwelled within just a few months. Uprisings and protests were still fairly common - and while King Xander was very much tolerant about the people's freedom to do so, it was his duty to step in when such things turned violent; and what were merely steps to protect innocents and prevent violence from spreading were often perceived as attempts to suppress their movements.

This time there was one such demonstration on the outskirts of Windmire - a region where many former soldiers of King Garon’s army now lived. It had spiraled out of control when several fires had been set throughout the neighborhood, and the scene quickly turned chaotic. Xander was quick to arrive, along with all of his siblings and a small number of trusted army members - including Charlotte, who was familiar with the area.

Xander, as he was wont to, tried his best to resolve the matter diplomatically - but the disgruntled former soldiers had learned to not take Nohrian royalty at their word, and that they would not get their way without duress. He had instructed his siblings and comrades to use force strictly as needed for their self-defense.

Charlotte, on her part, had been tasked with weaving through the streets, helping to escort bystanding citizens to safety. An easy enough task for her - equipped with her axe and knowledge of the area, she carried it out for a long time without any problems.

Still, she could not have expected that her face would be recognized by one of the former soldiers. Surrounded by frightened women and children and completely occupied with leading them out of the raging turmoil, she would be an easy target - a way to show the new king exactly whom he was dealing with.

Seizing an opportunity when Charlotte had her back completely turned, the man swooped in and raised his sword at her. The young boy walking in front of her screeched, and she turned with lightning-fast reflex, but quickly realized that she would not be able to shield the attack in time. Bracing herself, she heard the growl of a dragon from above, and then a sudden clash as heavy feet landed on the ground behind her. Her vision was momentarily blocked by a wave of lilac hair, and when it settled down, she was faced with Princess Camilla’s back, and her would-be attacker falling to the ground, lifeless.

“What the—”

Camilla turned to her, wearing a smile so warm, it was like she hadn’t just swooped in from the sky to save Charlotte from near-certain death.

“Darling...Are you— alright?”

“I’m fine, but you— Camilla— why the _fuck—”_

Camilla giggled. “I’m so— glad I made it in time…”

Her voice faded, and she dropped to her knees, falling to the ground. Underneath her, a thick pool of blood formed.

_“CAMILLA!!”_

Charlotte immediately knelt beside her, lifting her upper body with incredible ease, easing her hair out of the way to find dark blood oozing out of a large gash going from her right shoulder to about the middle of her chest.

“Camilla, stay with me, don’t you fucking dare— fuck—”

Out of instinct and not caring who heard her, she frantically screamed for help, trying to cover the wound with her bare hands because she didn’t have anything on her that she could use for it.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before another wyvern landed beside her - Beruka’s. The woman hopped off of it, dashing towards her and Camilla.

“What happened?”

“She— there was a man, with a sword, and he— he tried to attack me but she jumped in the way— I couldn’t stop it, I—”

“Help me lift her.”

Charlotte did, and they scrambled to place Camilla’s limp body on the saddle of Beruka’s wyvern while aggravating the wound as little as possible. Beruka gave the order, and the beast leaped back into the sky, quickly disappearing into the distance.

Charlotte spent the rest of the mission in such a daze, she needed to be nearly dragged back to the castle by Benny once it was done.

 

* * *

 

While Felicia, Flora and Elise worked on Camilla’s wound, Charlotte was not allowed in the room. She had very little idea as to how healing magic worked, but she knew that while it could repair tissue and close wounds, it could not replenish blood. The cut had been deep, and Camilla had lost a _lot_ of it.

She paced frantically outside of the door, unable to settle down for even a second. Corrin and Benny had tried to offer reassurances, but Charlotte shooed them away, insisting that she wanted to be alone.

Her heart ached. She could not believe what had happened. Could not fathom it. That Camilla would so recklessly throw herself in the way of a blow like that, endangering her life. She’d been shutting her out for so long. She was so certain that by trying to reach out, Camilla was just trying to play her more. So why? Why damn near give her own life to save Charlotte’s? The word rang over and over in her head. _why, why, why._

Many, many hours passed before the door finally opened. Charlotte jumped. She had not rested at all since the mission, and was nearly falling asleep on her feet. An exhausted Felicia and Elise stumbled out of the room first. Flora came afterward, looking just as weary, but steadier.

“How is she?” Charlotte immediately inquired.

Flora took a breath. “Resting. She’s going to need a lot of it, but I believe she’s going to be fine.”

Charlotte gave a very, very deep sigh of relief - and before she could think to stop or even notice it, hot tears fell from her eyes. She covered them with her hands and sobbed quietly, unable to move for a long moment. Flora gave her a pat on the shoulder before making her way out.

 

* * *

 

When Charlotte regained enough composure to enter the room, she found that she was the only one there aside from Camilla. Unbeknownst to her, Beruka had reported what she’d heard to the princess’ siblings, and by Corrin’s urging, they’d allowed Charlotte to have a few minutes alone with her.

Charlotte walked towards the bed with heavy feet. She hadn’t been here in so long, and the familiar sights and smells of the room hit her with a pang of bitter nostalgia.

Once close enough, she found Camilla asleep - taking deep, labored breaths. Her right shoulder and entire upper half of her torso were wrapped heavily in red-stained bandages. Yet in spite of it all, she looked so peaceful, so serene. Charlotte’s chest tightened, and she resisted the urge to sob.

She took a seat on the chair set next to the bed, presumably for the healers. She watched Camilla sleep, replaying the moment of the attack in her mind with a heavy heart.

“You...you idiot...why, why did you do that?” her voice was low, a whisper, yet she spoke like Camilla could hear her.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all. This entire time, you— I—”

She hesitated, but slowly lifted her arms onto the bed, taking one of Camilla’s hands in both of hers. She held it tightly, and thought for a moment about how much she missed that touch in spite of it all. That calloused yet soft palm, those slender fingers. She let herself look up at Camilla’s sleeping face, half of it hidden by her bangs, as it always was. Even asleep after hours of healing magic treatment, she was so beautiful.

“You can’t just do something like that. Not after everything. What am I supposed to think?!”

More tears ran from Charlotte’s eye. She sobbed again, kept looking at Camilla through her blurred vision.

“Damn you…”

It happened before she could stop herself. She stood from the chair, leaned down, and placed a soft kiss onto Camilla’s unmoving lips.

If it were up to her, neither of them would never move from there again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not a lesbian story if someone doesn't get stabbed, amirite ladies
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reconciliation.

Charlotte’s dreams remind her of another time when she had been saved.

She was just a girl, learning how to master the axe but still very much a novice. Brigands were raiding her border town near Cheve, as was fairly commonplace in the area. Instead of staying inside as her parents had insisted she do, she had taken her hatchet and run into the streets, determined to help protect her town and the people of it.

She was agile and strong for her size, but even so, a young girl could only do so much by herself against men with large weapons, fueled by anger and resentment. Soon enough she found herself cornered, three men with knives advancing on her. Just as she thought there was truly no way out, though, a chain swooped through the floor, tripping all three men and giving her a chance to escape. In her hurry, she only managed to catch a glimpse of the one who had thrown the chain: A short figure atop a wyvern, clad in crimson armor.

 

* * *

 

Charlotte wakes up to a strong soreness in her neck. Her body feels stiff - why was she at such a weird angle? Her eyes squint at the harsh light, and based on what little she can see of her surroundings, she finds that she doesn’t know where she is. Yet, despite the soreness she feels, whatever she’s laying on is quite comfortable, and there’s a gentle touch petting at her hair. That feels nice.

Wait. What?

Charlotte stirs, wills her brain into activity. Things start to come back to her. The mission. The man with the sword. Camilla taking the blow for her. Camilla asleep on her bed, wrapped up in bloody bandages.

Oh.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Charlotte turns. She finds Camilla looking down at her with that same gentle smile, her hand still softly weaving through her hair.

“Good morning, little dove. Sleep well?”

So that’s what had happened. She had fallen asleep at Camilla’s side, and Camilla hadn’t moved an inch, except to hold her hand and pet her hair. How.. .disgustingly domestic.

Charlotte groans, sitting up and stretching her sore muscles. “You...You’d been watching me sleep?”

“Of course. You still look so very pretty when you’re asleep.”

Charlotte blinks in slight disbelief. “I look pretty when I— gods, never mind. Now that you’re awake, can you please tell me what in the world you were thinking?!”

Her tone is harsh, but Camilla’s face remains perfectly calm. “I’m not sure what you mean, dear.”

“You know exactly what I mean. We. We hadn’t spoken for weeks. And then just go and do _that!_ You _idiot.”_

Camilla just looks at her, silent.

“You could have died. You could have died and now you’re all roughened up. And why? For what? I don’t understand.”

At that, Camilla giggles. “Charlotte, for such an intelligent woman, you ask such silly questions.”

“What did you s—”

“I did that because I meant to save you,” Camilla says, serious now. “I had been watching over you from above the entire mission. I did not step in before because I know you can handle yourself, but the moment I realized you would not be able to avoid that attack, I ordered Marzia to land. I could not live with myself if that man’s sword had struck you.”

“But it struck you instead! And now you’re here within an inch of your life!” Charlotte snaps back. “I just don’t understand. I thought you didn’t care about me. You used me. You _lied_ to me.”

Camilla’s face turns somber, her gaze drops. “I know.”

“And then you take a fucking sword to the chest in my place. That’s sending some real mixed signals, Camilla.”

Camilla takes a breath. She had been dreading this moment for so long, yet she knows she needs to tell the truth - and with the right words. Charlotte deserves as much. She looks into Charlotte’s eyes.

“Charlotte...I do not deny that I used you. Selena leaving me left a great void in my heart, and I thought that I could fill it - or at least ease the pain of it - by being with you.”

Her throat tightens, and Charlotte’s does as well.

“I cannot atone for that, but I. I am so deeply, deeply sorry, Charlotte. I cared about you - I do, care about you. Knowing that I hurt you so was driving me to such pain, I did not know how much longer I could live with it. That is why I protected you from that attack. I loathed myself enough for what I did to you, I could not bear it if something happened to you on my watch.”

Tears flood Charlotte’s eyes. She had never heard Camilla sound so earnest. In fact, she had also never heard Camilla apologize to anyone, for anything. She feels her heart skip several beats.

“Gods— damn… Gods, Camilla, you absolute fucking _idiot._ ”

She stands, peering over Camilla’s frame and pulling her into a gentle embrace - it would have been back-crushing, were it not for Charlotte being mindful of Camilla’s injuries.

“I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry. I had been wrong about you. I thought you really didn’t give a damn about me. I thought— ugh.” She sniffles. “I thought I wasn’t much more than someone to warm your bed. I’m sorry.”

Camilla returns the embrace with whatever strength she can muster. Her arms encircle Charlotte’s middle, and a hand weaves into her hair. “You needn’t apologize, darling. For anything. You’ve done nothing wrong. It was I who wronged you.” Silent tears run down her cheek.

“Well maybe next time you should try some _other_ form of expressing that which doesn’t involve getting stabbed,” Charlotte says, slightly exasperated.

“And let you become hurt instead? Never, my dear.”

Charlotte cry-laughs. “Gods.” She pulls away, looks at Camilla’s face. “I can’t believe you’re crying.”

Camilla chuckles. “You will find that I do so much more than I let others believe.”

She reaches out, cups Charlotte’s cheek with her palm. “I could not ask for forgiveness, darling, but I hope that—”

“Hey.” Charlotte stops her, covers her hand with one of hers. “It’s okay. We don’t need to think about that right now. Right now I just really, really want to kiss you again. So I’m gonna do that, okay?”

Camilla smiles so brightly then that Charlotte swears the entire world must have just lit up. “You needn’t even ask.”

She pulls her in, and they kiss, long and slow. It’s a kiss unlike the ones they’d shared in the past - one that has emotions pouring through their lips, their tongues. Charlotte is still careful because Camilla is hurt, but still she kisses her fervently, and even more tears escape her eyes because she’d missed her so damn much. She missed her touch, her kisses, and yes, she missed her as a person too. Because Camilla was a mess of a woman, but she was warm and kind and doting and Charlotte had grown so fond of it. Of her.

They kiss, and kiss, and for just that small moment they forget everything that led them here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take a shot every time charlotte calls camilla an idiot 8) anyway, we're almost done! 
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


End file.
